An Unexpected Stranger
by kittycat312
Summary: Kira Lawrence was a loyal and committed Assassin. However, when she is captured by the Templars, and becomes acquainted with Haytham, their Grand Master, she realises that everything she has been taught is questionable, and she is left to choose between the path she'd always thought she'd follow, or a different path entirely. Haytham/OC
1. Chapter 1 A New Year

Chapter 1. A New Year

It was a beautiful morning. The sun shone brightly from the cloudless sky above, somehow finding a way through the many trees of the forest, and piercing any shadows which lay below. It was the start of spring, and for Kira Lawrence, the start of a new year. She had never considered the first months as the New Year- they were no different from the months that had preceded them. Spring was a time for change, the environment of the forest which surrounded her began to once again become familiar with the sense of life that winter so simply seemed to neglect.

For Kira, there was suddenly so much to see, hear and feel. She sensed in the distance a deer, trotting peacefully along, and like her, experiencing the world which seemed to have been lost for such a long time. Kira ambled slowly across a worn dirt path, her keen eyes observing all that surrounded her. She smiled to herself and sighed quietly, grateful for the serenity that she had found. She could wander like this forever, she thought, without a trouble or care in the world. It was truly a perfect day, and one which, it seemed, could not be spoiled. The freshness of the grass and the flowers lifted Kira's spirits tremendously, and she allowed her thoughts to be fully occupied with the beauty of the world around her.

Suddenly she felt a person's weight drop onto her back, and she lay, stunned on the ground, with a much closer view of the grass she had moments ago been admiring than she would like. She had been, rather effectively, pinned to the forest floor. Her arms were held tightly by her head, and despite struggling to escape her attacker's grasp, she found she could not break loose. She gave in to their force and lay defeated beneath them; she had realised long before that there had been no use in struggling, but it had at least been worth a try.

"That," spoke the attacker teasingly, "was far too easy." The weight shifted from her back as she heard them get to their feet behind her. She turned onto her back, propped herself up with her elbows, and steadily met the gaze of a familiar friend. He smiled at her as he offered a hand, which she gratefully accepted. "You were not concentrating," he remarked as he watched her begin to brush off the litter of leaves and grass that her dress had accumulated. "In all honesty Connor," she spoke, "I'd quite forgotten about our game."

"Our game? It is much more than that."

"Then I'm sorry to have spoiled such an important training exercise for you. I'll pay more attention next time, if that's what you wish." She spoke good-naturedly and yet somewhat irritably, and he couldn't help but be amused by her tone. Satisfied that she had restored her dress, Kira allowed the young man a genuine smile, before beginning to continue her walk, this time with someone to share it with. Connor walked alongside her quietly, respectful of the fact she did not wish for conversation.

They wandered for what felt like hours, and before long, were both greeted by a familiar building standing before them. They stopped to consider the manor, before Connor turned to his companion and spoke for the first time since they had initially met that morning. "I wonder if it will be time for breakfast yet." He paused to study the position of the sun. "I'd say it is."

"Yes." Kira agreed. "Most probably. I hope Achilles will be there to enjoy it with us. Did he say if he was going out?"

"No, but I do not think that he would be anywhere else than at home at such an hour." Connor replied. In agreement of this assumption, they both headed towards the building. Before they had reached the door to open it though, it opened for them and they were met by the figure of the man that had been the subject of their recent conversation. "Good morning Achilles," Kira chimed pleasantly, and Connor likewise greeted his mentor. The old man nodded to both, before smiling warmly. "Connor," he said, "Come. I have something to show you."

Kira watched her friend follow him obediently, and presuming it was some attack or defence method that Achilles intended to teach him, decided she was not needed. She had learnt it all before, she thought to herself, and, noting that breakfast was obviously out of the question, headed into the house and to the kitchen in order to prepare something for herself. She reckoned it would be an hour, at least, until Connor would join her again, and she had no doubt he would be eager to demonstrate some new learnt skill. She sighed, deciding to abandon breakfast to instead head outside and train herself. After all, she couldn't let Connor get ahead of her. He had beaten her once already today, and she wouldn't allow that to happen again.

* * *

Author notes:

Hi, everyone. Thanks for taking the time to read my story so far. Please review, follow, or favourite my story, as I appreciate all feedback, and I'd love to hear what you think. :)

Thanks again,

 _kittycat312_


	2. Chapter 2 A Late Night Visit

Chapter 2. A Late Night Visit

Kira watched from the sitting room window as the rain cascaded down around the manor. It was ten o'clock in the evening, and all signs of the welcoming outdoors she had earlier been exploring had vanished. The world had changed once more, and this time, for the worse. She turned from the window and faced Connor and Achilles, who both sat at chairs facing towards the recently lit fireplace.

"The sooner we find out what the Templars are planning, the better." Achilles was saying. "It has been a month at least since we received any news of their activities."

"It has been difficult, Achilles. I have followed several leads, all of which I've found to be false, or have just led to another dead end. Whatever the Templars are planning, they're planning discreetly." Connor replied, shaking his head. The fire crackled before them and they both stared into it thoughtfully, considering what they could do and what options they had. "What about you, Kira? Have you any news?" Achilles asked, turning to her as she moved across the room to take a seat beside them. "No," she answered, settling down. "I've been busy with other things. Although, I can travel to Boston tomorrow and speak to Paul Revere, if you like. Perhaps he will know something."

"Perhaps." Achilles answered. "Perhaps not. Either way, it is worth a try."

"Good, then I'll go tomorrow morning."

The conversation continued for another half hour, switching between the Templars and their plans, the progress of both Kira and Connor's training, and finally, to the manor and sitting room in which they sat, both of which were in need of renovations. They had just settled on a suitable amount of timber, which Connor would purchase and retrieve the next day, when the room grew quiet with the absence of rain falling all over the manor. Kira stood and once more walked to the window, gazing at the sky to study the clouds. "It will start raining again soon," she observed, "I think it would be best for me to take my leave now, while it is receded. I'd like to get home before it starts again." Her small house lay on the very outskirts of Boston, and on horseback, was only a short journey away. It was possible that if she left now, she would reach it before the rain resumed its fall.

"That would indeed be sensible, yes. Unless you would prefer to stay here for the night?" Achilles offered, as he rose from his chair.

"No, thank you," She watched him rise slowly to his feet. "Please, do not feel obliged to see me out." She smiled kindly, wishing not to burden the old man. He shook his head. "That's quite alright. Although I myself would like to retire. You should do so too, Connor." Achilles addressed the young man, who himself stood up and nodded in agreement. He watched Kira bid goodnight to Achilles and leave the room, and decided to follow her to the front door. She turned to face him, grateful for the escort, as she retrieved her coat and pulled it over her shoulders. "I'll be back tomorrow afternoon. Hopefully I'll have some sort of lead on the Templars when I return." She stepped outside, the cold air somehow finding a way through her clothing to her skin immediately, causing a shiver to crawl up her spine. She turned to Connor once more. "Goodnight." She spoke warmly.

"Goodnight."

As she faced away, she heard the door close behind her, and suddenly she was alone, in the middle of the night, with the rain threatening to fall any second. Sighing, she made her way to the stables, where she swiftly mounted her horse. Trotting slowly to the road which she would need to take to Boston, she stared ahead, her eyes only barely adjusting to the dark. It was short journey, she assured herself. But somehow, she knew it would feel a lot longer.

…

It was a sudden knocking at her door which aroused Kira from her thoughts, as she sat, comfortably, in an armchair with a book upon her lap. She had arrived home safely, and although knowing she was in need of rest, had felt too awake to retire to bed. Instead, she had settled on a book, one she had read before, to read. It was from this activity that she was disturbed. Glancing at her clock, she noted the time. It was half past two in the morning, or thereabouts. She wondered who it was that could be knocking at her door at this hour, as she placed the book to the side and stood reluctantly to answer it. At first, she walked to it at a slow pace, but when the knock was repeated, and this time more urgently, her pace quickened. Having reached it, she proceeded to unlock the bolt, and soon the door was thrust open to reveal two men, who pushed her aside and closed the door quickly behind them. Their breaths were heavy, as if they had just been running, and they glanced at each other before turning to the woman whose house they had just entered.

Kira, taken aback by the suddenness of their entrance, retreated slightly to observe the two men, who were obviously in some sort of trouble. One had black hair, pulled into a rough ponytail behind his head, and piercing blue eyes. But it was not this man who drew her attention, but the other instead. He had dark brown hair, greying slightly, which appeared almost black in the low light. His eyes were also a darker shade of brown, and he wore on his head a tricorn hat, of navy colour, which matched the rest of his attire. To Kira, he was undoubtedly a handsome man- but it was not this that drew her to him, but was instead his uncanny resemblance to her friend and fellow assassin, Connor. Of course, she recognised them both, also, from the pictures which Achilles had mounted in the manor's basement. They had been in her house for thirty seconds, at most, and already she knew exactly who, and more importantly, what, they were.

They both were wounded, and although these wounds were hardly fatal, she could tell that they both were in need of some sort of medical help. She hid her recognition of them to the best of her ability, and stepped towards them reluctantly. "May… May I help you?" She stammered, playing the part of a terrified woman excellently. The man, whom she knew to be Haytham Kenway, Connor's father, looked at her before regarding the house around him. "Yes," he spoke with a strong and clear British accent, "would you be adverse to us staying here for a small while? We are in a bit of trouble, as I am sure you have observed." He smiled kindly at the woman in front of him, having no wish of frightening her any more than he had already. After receiving a nervous nod from her, he addressed his companion, who was taking the time to admire the woman standing terrified before them. "Charles, perhaps you could locate some alcohol and bandages? We are certainly in need of them."

"Yes, Master Kenway," Charles Lee replied, as he turned to ask the woman where the kitchen was. "There," she answered, pointing a shaking hand in the direction of the room. "Here, I'll take you."

They followed her through to the kitchen, where she leant against a kitchen counter and gestured towards a cupboard. "You'll find alcohol, and some bandages, in there." She maintained a fearful voice, and as the two men were distracted in retrieving the items, her hand slipped silently into the kitchen draw against which she was leaning and withdrew a small, yet sharp, kitchen knife. She concealed it in her sleeve, as the gentlemen found what they were looking for and turned away from the cupboard. Charles moved closer to her as his master began to pour some alcohol onto a large cut on his left arm. He held out a different bottle to Kira, and, after she had taken it, turned to reveal a large gash below his left shoulder, which was bleeding heavily. "Would you mind?" he asked, "I'd do it myself, but that would be rather difficult."

"Of course." She laughed nervously, before moving closer to the man's back. Glancing at Haytham, he appeared to be fully occupied with his own wounds, and so, quietly, she allowed the knife that she had previously concealed to slip into her hand. She raised it towards Charles, who was entirely oblivious to the danger he was in.

Suddenly she heard a thud, and the clattering of her knife as it fell to the floor, and realised she had been pinned to the kitchen wall. Haytham held her there, one hand around her throat, and the other holding the hand which had previously gripped her knife, by her head. She glared defiantly into his eyes, fighting with all of her strength to escape his grasp, but it was too strong. She couldn't help but be impressed by the man's strength, and the quickness with which he had so effectively restrained her. Charles spun around, still unaware of the attempt that had just been made on his life. "Sir!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing?"

"She's an assassin." Haytham replied, his eyes never leaving hers. Her eyes flashed with surprise as he spoke, confirming that which he already knew to be true. "Are you certain?" his companion asked, and he nodded briefly. "Yes." He said, thinking of how he had watched her moments ago raising a knife to Charles's back. "I am."

Charles glanced at the woman, almost regretfully, before drawing his flintlock pistol, and targeting it at her head. "Then we kill her," he spoke, all signs of remorse now absent from his tone. "Like we killed the others." Haytham said nothing, instead taking a moment to study the woman's face. She was no longer looking at him, and instead was focusing all of her efforts on getting free, despite knowing it was no use. He thought for a moment, as Charles moved his finger to the trigger of his firearm. Kira closed her eyes, realising now that it was only a matter of seconds before Charles killed her.

"No." Haytham said suddenly. "It would be unwise to kill this woman. She could be important, or of some use to us or our cause." Relief flooded through her as she heard him speak, glad to hear his voice, as opposed to a gunshot. He dropped her, choking to the floor, and in no condition to fight. "Charles, find something with which we can bind her hands. We'll take her back with us."

Obediently, Charles lowered his gun and nodded his head. "Yes, sir." Casting one last glance at the Assassin whom his master had just spared, he turned and walked away, in search of a rope, or something of similar qualities. Left alone with the woman, Haytham looked down at her whilst drawing his sword. Turning the hilt towards her, he struck her hard on the head, and watched as she fell, unconscious. Kira's head seared like fire with the pain of the blow, and, coming to terms with everything that had just occurred, she waited for her world to fade to black.

* * *

Author notes:

Hi, everyone. Thanks for taking the time to read my story so far. Please review, follow, or favourite my story, as I appreciate all feedback, and I'd love to hear what you think. :)

I'm hoping to publish a chapter a week, however, this one's early on account of the shortness of the last chapter. I'm really enjoying writing this story for you, and I hope that you're enjoying reading it.

Thanks again,

 _Kittycat312_


	3. Chapter 3 A Familiar Face

Chapter 3. A Familiar Face

When Kira awoke, the first thing that became clear to her was how foggy the world around her was. The prison cell in which she now found herself to be lying, despite being perfectly clear, appeared to have been swamped with some sort of strange mist, which although she knew was a creation of her mind, threatened to choke her at any second. She raised a pale hand to the side of her head, which ached with a now dull and yet still unbearable pain. It was where Haytham had struck her, she seemed to recall, as the events of the previous night began to form themselves in her mind. She pressed her fingertips to her temple and massaged it softly in an attempt to lessen the pain that rested there; he must have hit her harder than she thought.

As the fog around her began to clear, Kira took a moment to survey her surroundings. She had been lying- and was now sitting up- on a tattered mattress, which was caked in mud, and other substances that she didn't wish to think about. The walls around her were all stone, and likewise, the floor was paved with stone that had since been covered in a layer of dirt and dust. At the front of the room were sturdy, and yet somewhat worn, prison bars, which although appeared to be fragile and breakable, she knew would be impossible to breach. She stood, her hand still pressed to her head, and glanced out of a small window which lay amongst the stone of the wall furthest from the bars. It was beginning to grow dark outside, and it struck Kira just how long she had truly been unconscious for.

Her thoughts were disturbed by a deafening sound, which brought back the searing pain in her head which she thought she had banished. Taking a moment to hold her head tighter, the pain now almost overwhelming, she turned her head quickly to the source of the noise. It was a key, turning the lock in the door of her cell. She frowned at how such a small sound had appeared to be so much greater. A guard was unlocking the door, and once he had succeeded in this, he proceeded to pull it open. For a moment, the thought crossed Kira's mind that she had a chance to escape. She turned herself towards the door, taking a step forwards, considering the opportunity she had been provided with. But as her head swam with a new dizziness, formed from her one small advancement, she acknowledged she was in no position to escape. She would be too vulnerable, too unable to fight for herself. It wasn't worth the risk.

She managed to reach the right-side wall of her cell, and leant against it, grateful for the support. The stone felt like ice as the coldness of it seeped through the thin sleeve of her dress, and the suddenness of this sent a shiver down her spine. She stared at the ground below her, trying to stable her mind, trying to get a hold on what was happening, and trying to think clearly. As the fogginess that clouded her thoughts began to once more clear, she became aware of the sound of footsteps, at first approaching, and now entering her cell. They stopped, and she heard the creak of the door as it was closed behind her visitor, who she could now sense was watching her, waiting for her to make the first move.

She didn't. She did nothing, just continued to stare down at her feet, for this was the only thing she felt she had strength for. After a minute of silence, the visitor must have grown impatient, for they took a step forwards, and spoke, suddenly, breaking the silence, and also somewhat shattering the stability Kira had just created in her mind, for Haytham Kenway's voice struck her almost as hard as his sword's hilt had, the night before. "Good evening." He said, simply, "It is good to see you are finally awake."

She waited a moment, recovering slightly, and gathering her thoughts. She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his for the first time since she had gained consciousness. He wasn't displaying any emotion at all, he just met her gaze, expectantly, and awaited her answer. "Good evening." She replied, wanting desperately instead to have said something clever, something to make her sound so much less fragile then she felt, but she couldn't think of anything. Haytham could clearly see how weak her last encounter with him had left her, unsurprisingly, he thought, and so gestured to the ground. "Perhaps you had better sit down." He didn't receive a reply, he hadn't expected to, instead she just nodded slightly in agreement, and then slowly lowered herself to the floor. Once she had settled, she looked up at him warily, but this time he saw at least a slight strength in her when she spoke.

"What do you want from me, Mr. Kenway?"

"Answers. I have no intention of wasting either my time, or yours, and so I have a few questions. If your answers suffice, and I see no point in keeping you here, then I will allow you to leave. Now, we'll start with your name, Miss…?"

She laughed, but where she found the strength to, she didn't know. "I'm not answering any of your questions, Mr Kenway." She said, shaking her head.

He sighed, having had hoped she would just cooperate so that this could end quickly. He should have known better than to hope for something so rare as an Assassin not going out of their way to be difficult. "Look," he began to explain, "Can't you see yourself? You have barely the strength to stand, let alone fight." He stopped, drew his sword, and held it towards her before continuing. "I don't want to have to kill you. But if you do not answer my questions, you will leave me no choice." There was a menace in his voice that wasn't there before, and she knew he was far from joking. He spoke calmly, softly, even, but there was an impatience in his tone that suggested that he was in no mood for games. His sword glinted in the little light provided by a few lamps outside of the cell, and he held it with confident composure. He was right, for looking up at him now, she didn't fancy her chances in opposing him.

"Let's try again, shall we? Your name, Miss…?"

She waited, just for a moment, before replying. After all, it would be foolish to lose her life over a few questions- at least, this is what she told herself. "Lawrence. Kira Lawrence." She said reluctantly, regretting every syllable she uttered. In return for her answer, Haytham sheathed his sword quickly, startling her slightly with the suddenness of this action. "Good. Now we're getting somewhere." He paused before pressing on with his next question. "And how old are you, Miss Lawrence?"

"Does that matter?"

"It may well do, yes."

Kira hesitated, again. She knew that she had no other choice than to answer his questions, but even so, doing so felt wrong. This man was her enemy, and the last thing she wanted was to be openly sharing information about herself with him, for who knew what he would do with it. She sighed, irritably. "Thirty six."

"Thirty six?" He looked at her, somewhat surprised, as he received a rather annoyed nod of confirmation from her. Haytham had to admit, he had been expecting her to be approaching thirty, at most, from her appearance. Raising an eyebrow, he took a moment to admire just how beautiful she was, for her youthful looks had had him completely fooled. She had long, dark brown hair which cascaded down her back, and likewise her eyes were a darker shade of chestnut. They sparkled like diamonds in the low light, something he hadn't taken the time to notice before. Shaking his head to interrupt his thoughts, he resumed his interrogation. "You are obviously British, for your accent is of that region. So what are you doing in here, in America?"

"I might ask you the same question, for it applies to you also." She had noticed him previously admiring her, and couldn't help finding it mildly amusing. However, after receiving a warning look from him, she proceeded to answer the question, properly, this time. "It is true that I am British. My mother died not long after I was born, and my father was killed by a Templar whist we were living in London. I was fourteen at the time, and with no other family for me to go to in England, I made the journey to America, for I heard the Assassins were prospering here."

"So you have been training as an Assassin here for twenty two years now. Who is your mentor? The old man, I presume?"

"If you mean Achilles, then yes."

Haytham began to ask something else, but before he was given the chance to, he was disturbed by the presence of someone outside of the cell. "I am sorry to interrupt, Grand Master, but if we don't leave now, we shall be late." Kira recognised the man immediately as Charles Lee, and turned to eye him suspiciously. Haytham frowned, before he recalled what Charles was referring to and smiled, good-naturedly. "Of course, yes. I'd quite forgotten." He walked to door, waited for the guard to open it, and headed towards his companion. He made out that he was getting ready to leave, and noticed that Charles was staring at Miss. Lawrence. "Sir," he said. "Aren't you forgetting something?" Haytham followed his gaze, before approaching the cell once more, and looking through the bars to address the woman, who was now finding herself able to stand. "No, Charles. _That_ , I hadn't forgotten." He started, "Miss. Lawrence? I have one final question for you."

She looked into his eyes, expectantly. "Yes?"

"Are you a threat to the Templar cause?" He spoke the words carefully, deliberately, as if trying to make her understand how much her answer would matter; for it was the answer to this question that he would use to determine what to do with her. He sensed her hesitate, which was good, for it meant she had realised how important her response was.

Finally, her voice broke the expectant silence that had been established. "I am an Assassin, and hope that I am a threat to the Templar cause. If I am not, then I shall gladly admit to have having wasted the past twenty two years of my life." She looked at Haytham, who, after what felt like an eternity of showing no emotion whatsoever, smiled, satisfied.

"Good. You may go."

…

The door was opened, and Kira left the cell, silently, hoping against hope that this wasn't some sort of trick- and that she truly was free to go. She couldn't understand why admitting to being a threat to the Templars had granted her liberty, but it had, at least. A guard was tasked with escorting her off the premises, and she followed him, her breath catching in her throat as she passed Haytham and Charles. Still, they didn't stop her. Charles waited until she was out of sight before turning to his master, confused by his actions. "Sir, why have you let her go? She is a threat, she said so herself."

Haytham stared after the woman, before adjusting his hat which had fallen slightly sideways on his head. He didn't look at Charles, only said, plainly, "Because she is of much greater use to us free, than she is imprisoned here. Now," he paused before continuing. "Let's be off, shall we?"

* * *

Author notes:

Hi, everyone. Thanks for taking the time to read my story so far. Please review, follow, or favourite my story, as I appreciate all feedback, and I'd love to hear what you think. :)

I think I've settled on Thursday as the day I'll post my chapters, but it'll probably vary every now and then.

Thanks again,

 _Kittycat312_


	4. Chapter 4 Unarmed in the Frontier

Chapter 4. Unarmed in the Frontier

When the guard escorting Kira had guided her to the exit of the Templar fort that she had found herself imprisoned in, she realised that she was in some part of Boston. Quite where, she wasn't sure, but she was certain she could find her way once she got her bearings. Nodding appreciatively at the guard, she stepped reluctantly towards the street ahead, glancing back, as if expecting to be stopped. She still couldn't understand why she had been freed, but she realised that she might as well get as far from this place as possible, before Haytham changed his mind.

As soon as she reached the first building of the street, she darted around the corner of it quickly and into a back alley. After assuring herself that she wasn't being followed, she walked on, in hope that she would find herself somewhere she would be familiar with. Her pace was slow, for she was still greatly affected by her head injury, but she walked quickly enough to cover good ground. The dark was settling on Boston rapidly, and she found herself swamped in shadows soon enough. The air was cold and crisp, and crawled through her clothes slowly, drifting across her skin. Eventually she stumbled into a street she knew, and from there, began the long journey back towards the frontier. If she was unconscious for as long as she thought she was, then Connor and Achilles would have realised something was wrong by now, and may be out looking for her. For this reason, she thought it best to return to the Manor as opposed to her own home, even if the journey was longer.

Boston was a different place at night than what it was in the day. The hustle and bustle of the streets had ebbed to silence and stillness, and the absence of the voices of town criers and market sellers made this even more apparent. The town seemed empty, even though Kira knew of all of the people who slept or wondered about behind the multitude of closed doors; she couldn't begin to imagine what went on within the surrounding houses. Still, it added an air of mystery to the town, and contributed somewhat to its charm. Despite this, Kira couldn't wait to see the city filled with the sounds and sights of life again.

…

The Frontier however, was a different place entirely. Like Boston, it had its appeal, but it possessed a certain darkness that Boston didn't, an untamed and wild danger, which was reflected in every tree, flower and animal. It could be a beautiful place, truly, but at night, it was impossible to guess what each shadow could conceal. It was this that kept Kira alert, and wary of her surroundings as she crossed through it. It was still a long way from the manor, but with every footstep, Kira knew she was getting closer. She was spurred on by this, despite the risks that lay in wait, for what felt like hours despite only being minutes.

She was reflecting on her experience as a Templar prisoner, when her thoughts were interrupted by a low growl, which came from some bushes ahead of her. She stopped immediately, backing away a few steps, with her eyes scanning over the foliage before her. It didn't take long for her to spy a pair of eyes, glowing like small moons in the darkness. The growl was repeated, this time louder, closer, as a wolf prowled out of the bushes. It bared its teeth, eyes glaring, as its fur shined in the sudden touch of the moonlight. Wolves hunted in packs, Kira knew that, but she couldn't see or hear any others. Still, they were probably nearby. She reached, slowly, for her dagger, usually kept sheathed in her belt, before realising its absence. She cursed to herself, realising what a fool she had been to forget that she was unarmed.

Looking around, but still being wary of the proximity of the animal confronting her, she considered her options. She could run, or try, at least. But she couldn't outrun the wolf, and it would be a pointless effort, for it would be on top of her in seconds, especially with her being in her current condition. Having discarded the idea of running, she considered climbing a nearby tree. It could work, but her chances of successfully climbing out of the wolf's reach in time were small. She was still weak, and knew she hadn't the strength required to escape in that way.

Before she had any more time to make a decision, the wolf lurched forward, growling wildly. It pinned her to the floor, and she wrestled with it, held its throat at as much of a distance that she could. With all of her efforts, it wasn't enough. It was stronger than her, and it quickly began to close the distance between her head and its teeth. They shone like small white daggers, sharp and lethal, and now only inches away from her face. She was overwhelmed by the animal's breath, which stung with heat and clouded her eyes. It snapped at her, bearing down, closer and closer, forcing her to close her eyes. She inhaled sharply, waiting for the moment that her strength would fail her. Her arms shook violently under the weight of the wolf, to the point where they were numb with pain.

Suddenly, the animal yelped, painfully, and she felt the weight above of her shift. It was still there, but the wolf was no longer fighting her. Opening her eyes, she was met by the sight of its own, which were dull and lacked the hunger they had previously possessed. The wolf was dead. Pushing it off of her, she scrambled to her feet. Staring down at its body, she took a moment to find her breath, which was jagged and desperate. The animal looked peaceful, as if sleeping, but Kira quickly observed an arrow, lodged firmly in the side of its head. Before she could turn to face the direction from which the arrow had come, she heard movement in the bushes behind her.

'Kira?' The voice rang clear, and she recognised it immediately. Spinning around, she watched as Connor emerged from his cover, barely visible in the darkness. He approached her, noticing her obvious condition, and took her arm supportively. 'Are you alright?' She nodded, staring at him, but almost past him, as she took his arm with her free hand and used it to steady herself. 'I… I just… We need to talk.' She said, shakily, as her breath began to resume its usual pace.

'I know, but we are not far from the manor. We should return, and then we can talk there.' He reasoned. She nodded again, and allowed him to lead her away from the dead wolf, and onto a nearby dirt path, which Kira realised as one that led towards the manor.

…

'So, they let me go.' Kira finished explaining her experiences of the past two evenings, as Connor listened, eagerly. They sat around by the portraits of the Templars which Achilles had previously mounted on the wall of the basement, Connor on a chair, and Kira on the wooden table which stood below them. She had recovered from her ordeal, and stared up at the pictures, curiously. Connor followed her gaze, equally intrigued by why she had been let go. If there was one thing he had been certain of, it was that the Templars were the last people to show mercy on anyone, let alone an Assassin. 'I do not understand.' He said, calmly. 'If they knew you were an Assassin, why didn't they kill you? Like they have always killed the others?'

'I wish I knew.'

They were interrupted by footsteps, as Achilles treaded slowly down the stairs to join them. It was the early morning now, but had been late when Kira and Connor had got back; they had decided it would be best not to wake their mentor. But now he was awake, he decided it would be best to talk with them. 'The Templars think that you will be of some use to them, Kira. That is why they let you go.' He said, as he joined them. Kira stood up, defensively.

'Then they are fools. I would never help them, they should know that.' Despite her remark, Achilles shook his head silently.

'I know that you wouldn't. Not usually. But Haytham is clever, he could make you help him by making you think you are hindering him. He will no doubt approach you for something, but you must say no, no matter what he tells you.'

Connor listened of his father, wondering whether or not Haytham could truly trick Kira into helping him. Achilles had always told him his father was clever, and he believed him, for he'd experienced first-hand what the Templars were capable of. But still, Kira wouldn't help them. He was certain of that, and so was she, for she disregarded Achilles with a wave of her hand. Sighing angrily, she pushed past him and headed towards the stairs, not looking back. 'Morning or not, I'm going to rest. Please, do not disturb me.' She said, before leaving them both alone. They watched her go, knowing it was pointless to try and stop her. Connor shrugged it off, said goodbye to his mentor, before also leaving, having decided to engage in some early morning hunting.

Once Connor had walked out of sight, Achilles looked up at the portrait of Haytham. He rubbed his forehead irritably, for as soon as he had heard Kira's story, he had realised what the man was up to. He didn't like it; he'd never been surer of something in his life.

* * *

Author notes:

Hi, everyone. Thanks for taking the time to read my story so far. Please review, follow, or favourite my story, as I appreciate all feedback, and I'd love to hear what you think. :)

Sorry this chapter is late, I've been ridiculously busy with lots of things recently. I'll try and get the next chapter ready for Thursday, but it may be a bit later.

Thanks again,

 _Kittycat312_


	5. Chapter 5 The Thief's Diary

Chapter 5. The Thief's Diary

It had been a month since Kira's ordeal, and sufficient time for her to rid herself of the fragility she felt she had somewhat sustained throughout it. It had been a successful few weeks, for both her and Connor. Tax collectors had been stopped, several lives saved, and some less-deserving lives taken away. Granted, there had been no news of the Templars, but Kira viewed this positively, grateful for it even, as they were the last people she wanted on her mind. It was all of this that she reflected on now, as she sat, unaccompanied, at a small table in the Golden Oak Inn. The inn was relatively new, but the owners seemed welcoming enough, and it was a pleasant place to spend an evening. The location of it also contributed to its usefulness, for Connor had asked Kira to meet him at the docks in an hour, and it was near to these that it was situated. It wasn't too late; around eight o'clock, and the inn was already bustling with a huge variety of people. The air was thick with the sounds of voices and laughter, and the smell of food, emanating from both the kitchen and the customer's plates, smelt delicious. Kira greatly considered getting something for herself, but decided to leave it for another time.

Instead, she settled on just a tankard of rum, and it was this that she sipped at as she pondered over her next mission- the one she was meeting with Connor to discuss. She wasn't certain about what it actually was- Connor had been sketchy over the details- but she knew it involved a thief, who had been posing as a tax collector and using his disguise to collect citizen's taxes, subsequently keeping these for himself. Kira knew they would be retrieving the money and returning it to the community, but whether or not the thief would be allowed to live, she didn't know. Still- it should be an interesting enough endeavour.

She stared down at the table, lost in thought, as she heard footsteps approaching her table. She listened as the opposite chair was dragged backwards, and someone sat down onto it, saying nothing. Whoever it was, they were staring intently at her. She sighed- she was often approached by men, and usually she found it entertaining enough- but she wasn't in the mood. She looked up across the table, already thinking of something to say to discourage the gentleman, but instead of being greeted by the sight of a stranger, she found herself facing the very Templar she'd been trying to forget.

Haytham Kenway smiled, nonchalantly. "Good evening, Miss Lawrence." His eyes sparkled with amusement at seeing the surprise beginning to etch itself onto her face.

She sat in stunned silence, for a moment, as she came to terms with what was happening. Having composed herself, she met his gaze, and replied equally coolly, "Good evening Mr Kenway." She then eyed his hands suspiciously, ensuring that if he made some sort of movement for a weapon, she would be ready for it. He noticed this, and held up both hands in the air.

"Look, I'm not here to fight you. I just want to talk." He sounded almost amused by the whole situation, and if he felt threatened by her at all, he made no point of showing it. He watched to see her reaction, looking for any signs for what she would do next. He didn't think she would attack him, but he discreetly kept a watch on any movements she made, whilst maintaining his untroubled demeanour.

Kira didn't trust him. She knew what she should do; and that was to get up and leave, immediately. After all, this was the man her mentor had always warned her of. Achilles had predicted this, and he'd given her strict instructions that dictated she walk away now before doing anything more. But she was intrigued by the Templar; she wanted to see what it was he had to say and why he wanted to involve her in it. With this in her mind, she reluctantly nodded for him to continue, and made a silent apology to her mentor as she did so.

Once Haytham had the Assassin's attention, he leant forwards slightly on his seat, resting his arms on the table before him. "Now," he said, earnestly, "it has come to my attention that you and my son are intending to apprehend a criminal named Johnathan Miller. Is this true?"

It took Kira a moment to identify the name to the thief of whom she had just been thinking. Once she had, she nodded again. "Yes. Although I don't know how we are planning to go about it. Connor has not yet informed me of what exactly we will be doing."

Haytham continued, "Ah, well allow _me_ to inform you. If what our sources say is true, then you both aim to steal back the money he has stolen from Boston's citizens. If that's the case, then you will most probably be stealing it from his home; it is here, you see, that he keeps his fortune. It is also there that I presume you will then apprehend the man himself, although what you intend to do with him afterwards escapes me entirely. Would you agree with this so far?"

"It certainly sounds a most sensible way of going about the matter, yes."

"Good, for it is this plan of action that I am relying on you and my son to be taking. Truth be told, Miss Lawrence, I am here to ask for your help."

Haytham knew how she would react, and she didn't disappoint. As soon as he'd spoken the words, a grin had spread across her face, and she found herself laughing. "What do you need, Grand Master? I'd be more than happy to oblige." She teased, sarcastically. He met her gaze calmly, unaffected by her ridicule.

"Look," he sighed, "Miller keeps a journal- a diary- as you will. It is only this that I ask you to retrieve for me. It will not be difficult to find."

Having calmed herself, Kira met his gaze confidently. "Why, is the diary important? What does it contain?"

"I cannot say, but it is of the upmost importance that I obtain it, or in this case, _you_ obtain it for me. What I can promise, however, is that the information concealed therein would in no way aid our opposition to your creed."

Kira listened, and thought, for a moment, before replying. "I'll find your precious diary, Mr Kenway, but when I do, I will not give it to you. If it is as important as you say, then it is for the best that I destroy it instead."

For the first time that evening, she saw a slight look of concern cross his face, just barely, and that was gone after a second. "No." He said. "Miss Lawrence, Charles would have killed you if I hadn't stopped him. You owe me your life, let alone a book which does not affect you."

"I owe you nothing. Do not forget that it was you who told him of my profession."

"You were going to kill him!" He exclaimed, his hand struck the table as he spoke in anger. Realising what he'd done, he visibly composed himself, before looking meaningfully into her eyes. "What choice did I have?"

She looked at him, knowing there was truth in his words. There was no doubt in her mind that it had been an unfortunate coincidence that the two Templars had found her, and that honestly, no one could be blamed. Haytham looked calm, collected, with no signs that he had ever acted with any other emotion- almost as if he didn't care how she would answer him. A few people had turned to watch the pair when he had struck the table, but all who had had now resumed their conversations and affairs, the incident entirely forgotten.

Kira raised herself from her chair, and prepared to leave for the docks, even if it meant being unnecessarily early. Haytham watched, indifferently almost, and made no move to stop her. She addressed him for a final time. "If I find the journal, then you have my word that I will not destroy it. That being said, I make no promise of bringing it to you. I will make that decision when it needs to be made, and no sooner."

He nodded, appreciatively. "If that is the case, then I wish you the greatest of success in your endeavours."

The woman thanked him, before walking away from the table and towards the door. All around her people continued as they had done so before. They maintained the constant noise and joviality that she would expect in any inn at this time of night, and were ignorant of everything that she had just experienced. She cast one last glance at Haytham before leaving, and he smiled, confidently at her as she did so. Outside, the air was cooling and darkness had begun to settle onto the town of Boston. Kira began to walk towards the dock, before spotting a poster on a nearby wall which depicted Connor's face, and asked for information on the man and his whereabouts. Approaching it, she chuckled to herself before tearing it discreetly down, and tossing it to the floor.

For an Assassin, Connor could be awfully overt in some of his activities, and after taking a moment to pull her coat tighter around her, Kira began the short walk to the docks with the full intention of telling him so.

* * *

Author notes:

Hi, everyone. Thanks for taking the time to read my story so far. Please review, follow, or favourite my story, as I appreciate all feedback, and I'd love to hear what you think. :)

Once again, I'm sorry this chapter is so late. A surprise camping trip with no Wi-Fi or laptop made writing and putting this chapter up pretty difficult, as I'm sure you can imagine. I hope you understand. :D

Thanks again,

 _Kittycat312_


	6. Chapter 6 The People's Money

Chapter 6. The People's Money

"Are you ready?"

"Of course."

"Good, then let's go."

Kira nodded in agreement to her fellow Assassin, before watching him disappear into the alley that lay between two houses nearby. She stood, taking a moment to gaze up at the clouded night sky that she knew concealed so many thousands of stars above, before turning her attention to the building that stood before her. She noted the window, left carelessly open by the owner, through which she would make her entrance. She hadn't lied to Connor; she was anxious to begin their latest endeavour, that of apprehending the man posing as a tax collector, as soon as possible, and impatiently she counted the seconds that passed in her head. Despite her eagerness, she knew that the mission would only be successful if she timed her entrance correctly, to correspond with Connor's own arrival at the rear of the house. He wouldn't be ready, not yet, she thought as she pictured him surreptitiously lock-picking the back door.

Over the few years she had known him, she had grown to realise Connor's strengths, his weaknesses, and understand how he operated: which hand he favoured when fighting, his preferred techniques in both attacking and defending, and every other act or movement that made him unique as an Assassin. Despite not having the benefit of watching Kira develop herself from the start, Connor too had come to an understanding of how she worked, fought and acted; and due to this mutual understanding, the two found that they worked together like clockwork.

And for this reason, Kira now knew Connor would have picked the lock in the house's rear door. Pulling her hood over her head, she reviewed the plan once more in her mind, before darting towards the building. The window was on the first floor, and after glancing around to ensure no inconveniently placed bystander was watching, she began to scale the structure. She'd previously taken the time to map each foot and hand hold, so her ascent was as swift and effective as possible. The coldness of the red stone bricks with which the house had been constructed stung her already numb fingers as she nimbly reached her destination. She had planned for if the window had been shut, but she was grateful that it had been left open, for it made for a much more effortless entrance.

She slipped silently inside the house, finding herself in the upstairs hall and staring across at the wooden stairs leading down below. Along and to her right was a closed door, which she believed to be the entrance to the bedroom, and through that, the study. Several Assassin recruits had studied the activities of the household over the previous week, and had provided Kira and Connor with enough information for them to learn that the stolen money was being kept in this study, and also the routine of the few mercenaries who had been hired to guard the rooms.

Creeping alongside the wall, Kira reached the door and carefully pressed her ear to the wood. On the other side, she heard the footsteps of two men, pacing incautiously on the other side. These would be the two guards- one in the bedroom, one in the study- of which she had been informed. From what she had heard, the mercenaries were hard-hitting, but not professional. They shouldn't be difficult to overpower, but she reminded herself of the fact that she was under strict instruction to only render them out of the picture temporarily- in short, not to kill any of them, unless entirely necessary.

Keeping this in mind, Kira's hand moved softly to the door's handle, and she grasped it slowly. As she heard the guard in the bedroom move away from her, she turned it and pushed the door open, ever so slightly, and all the time praying it wouldn't make a sound. It didn't, much to her relief, and quietly she crept into the room, her eyes fixing onto the figure of the first guard as soon as he came into sight. His back was turned to her as he gazed out of a window, his head moving briefly as he surveyed the outside world. At once Kira saw her opportunity, and darted forwards, grateful for the soft rug that lay across the floor which so effectively silenced her footsteps. In an instance she was upon the guard, one hand clasped tightly over his mouth, and her other arm around his neck, slowly cutting the oxygen he needed to breathe.

She held him strongly as he thrashed desperately to get free from her grip. His short and ragged breaths gasped for air against her hand, as she prevented him from crying out to his comrade. Moments later, the same breaths slowed as he drifted into a slumber; his hands which had previously been gripping her arm in an attempt to pull it away, fell limply to the sides of his body. He was unconscious, yes. But still very much alive.

Kira breathed a sigh of relief as she felt him weaken. She lowered him gently to the floor, being careful to remain as quiet as possible. The door to the study was pulled to, meaning that she could be certain the second guard had not seen her attack. Which was convenient, to say the least, but something she was thankful for all the same. Taking one last look at the unconscious guard, she studied the weapons he carried and his physique- he looked strong, powerful- and like someone she would rather take by surprise than head-on. Presumably the guard next door would be the same sort of build, so she still favoured stealth as her method of confrontation.

Which was a good choice, for a minute later, she stood over his now limp body, after having overpowered him in an almost identical way as she had done with the previous guard. The plan was certainly going well so far, as far as she was concerned, anyway, for she could only hope that Connor's part in it had been as successful as her own. She turned her attention to a wooden box which lay on a small table on the opposite side of the room from her. She approached it, her hands reaching for the lid and gliding across the wood to reach a small lock. The box had been varnished and felt smooth under her fingers as she bent down to study it. There was no time now to unlock the box, but after lifting it and testing its weight, Kira was certain that it contained the stolen coins of Boston's citizens.

Smiling to herself, she walked with the box into the bedroom, heading purposefully towards the door. As she passed the bedside table, she stopped, suddenly remembering the _other_ reason that she was here. Placing the box onto the bed, she turned to the table and pulled out a small draw which lay under the top of it. Sure enough, she was greeted by the sight of a small book, leather-bound, and, after she had flicked through several pages, undoubtedly the journal kept by the fraud tax-collector. Satisfied, she pocketed it quickly into the inside of her coat, before hearing a loud thud from downstairs.

Alarmed, Kira snatched the box from the bed and hurried towards the hall, and from there, down the stairs to the source of the sound. As she reached the room, a sitting-room, she moved the box under one arm, her now free hand reaching for the dagger sheathed at her side. She drew it sharply as she entered, but lowered it again as she came across the scene which was now happening inside. Which was that Connor now stood, hidden blade unsheathed and shining with a dark shade of crimson, above a body of a middle-aged looking man. Johnathon Miller, the criminal whose house they had just been invading. Connor looked up at her, and on seeing her puzzled expression, sheathed his hidden blade and stepped forward.

"He did not take too lightly to being caught." He explained, gesturing at the body, a pool of blood now starting to form on the carpet beneath the dead man. "He did not leave me much choice"

"I see." She replied understandingly. Part of her wanted to press further the fact that she had been careful not to harm the guards upstairs, but also knowing she would probably have done the same thing in his position. She now held the box out to him, the weight of it starting to tire her arms. "Here. We've got what we came for at least."

"Is that all of the money?"

"All that there was in the study, yes."

She relaxed her arms as he took the box from her, smiling as he did so. She knew how strongly he felt about returning the money to the people, and knew how relieved he would be that they now had all of the money to return. Connor turned to face the fallen criminal, still burning with a hatred of the man for what he had taken from Boston's people, but still offering a silent prayer for him. It would be wrong to take pleasure in killing a man, even one as despicable as this. Kira studied the body, too.

"We should go. It won't be long until one of the guards gains consciousness and comes looking for him, and the money."

In strong agreement of this, Connor nodded, holding the box tightly and then stepping over the body to head towards the door. He nodded in appreciation at Kira as he passed her, grateful for her assistance in retrieving the box. She smiled back, keeping to herself the fact that she had also got what she'd come for.

* * *

Author notes:

Hi, everyone. Thanks for taking the time to read my story so far. Please review, follow, or favourite my story, as I appreciate all feedback, and I'd love to hear what you think. :)

I've been really busy lately, hence it's been such a long time since I published my last chapter. I'll do my best to get the next one out on time, and thanks for sticking with the story so far. I really appreciate it.

Thanks again,

 _Kittycat312_


	7. Chapter 7 The Green Dragon

Chapter 7. The Green Dragon

The pages of the diary felt crisp as Kira flicked through them. She passed the book between her hands, examining it from every angle, moving her fingers across every inch of the dark leather with which it was covered. She stared down at it, quizzically. She didn't understand.

When Haytham had asked her to retrieve the journal, she'd promised she wouldn't destroy it. But now, left with the decision of giving it to him or keeping it to herself, her mind just wouldn't settle on an answer. She had presumed that after reading it- after seeing what it contained- that it would be easy to decide what to do. But the contents had been commonplace. It was a thief's diary, and nothing more. There were no powerful secrets; no insights into anything that the Templar's would be interested in. If there had been, then the decision would be easier to make. There would be obvious consequences to whatever Kira decided to do. But it didn't seem as if it would matter, either way.

If it didn't make a difference- to whom the diary belonged- then why did she care? Why had she spent hours over the past days pondering about what to do? Her attention to the whole business was about as senseless to her as Haytham's wanting of the diary seemed to be. Every part of her told her to keep the journal; that if the Templar's didn't have it, then nothing could go wrong. But Haytham _cared_ about getting it- cared about something worthless. And Kira wanted to know why. Perhaps it was of value. Perhaps she was missing something. Perhaps some powerful secret really was concealed within. If so, then the book would be far more important than Kira thought, and more dangerous, too.

So she needed to dispose of it then. Just in case.

She held this in mind as she treaded along through Boston's streets, searching for a Templar agent. If she disposed of the journal, she would never know that secret that lay concealed inside. If it existed, that is. For now, she decided to let her curiosity overrule her better judgement. She could imagine Achilles scolding her for allowing herself to do so, and prayed that he and Connor both would remain unaware of her actions. Which wouldn't be for long, if she wasn't careful.

Kira turned into an alley, and looking up, saw a good place to ascend the nearest building. After ensuring no-one was around, she began the short climb, and moments later found herself overlooking Boston's rooftops. It was beautiful- every time. The whole city spread about in front of her, for her to watch. If time had been on her side, she'd have liked to taken a minute or two more to admire the scenery. But it wasn't, and after surveying the rooves of the buildings around her, she saw what she'd been looking for. A Templar spy, studying a street below diligently. He wasn't too far, and quietly Kira crossed the rooftops- in all of the ways that she had been taught. Reaching the house on which the man was, she crept forwards, the sound of her footsteps concealed by the buzz of the townsfolk below. She continued on before stopping, when the man was within her reach.

In one swift movement she dug her foot deep into the inside of his knee, one arm reaching out to catch his as he lost his balance and fell forwards towards the street. She tugged it sharply to the right, twisting him so he fell instead onto the building, and at her feet. He lay, temporarily stunned as she drew her dagger, crouched, and pressed the blade against his neck.

"Not one movement." She commanded, pressing the blade slightly harder to enforce her point. He nodded slightly, his eyes wide with fear. They pleaded with her, silently and she glared mercilessly back.

"Your Grand Master, where is he?" She asked, unmoved by his desperate gaze. He shook his head, despite his situation.

"I- I can't-''

"Where is he?" She repeated, some blood beginning to appear around her dagger. He grimaced with pain as she pushed harder. He glanced around, before meeting her stare once more.

"Please… They'll kill me.''

"I'll kill you."

She stood abruptly, but before allowing him time to react, put her foot to his knee and pushed it hard to the ground- threatening to break his leg at any second.

"The Green Dragon!" He exclaimed, his face twisted in agony. "Please, you'll find him there. Just don't-''

She bent down, bringing the hilt of her dagger strongly against his head, and watched as he fell unconscious. Dragging him behind the nearest chimney, she straightened and looked towards her next destination.

…

Haytham allowed his gaze to sweep over his followers who sat around a table before him. They all looked at him, expectantly, as he leaned forward to address them.

"Gentlemen, we find ourselves in a difficult position. The situation in Boston grows more troublesome each day, and it is with regret that I inform you we are beginning to lack in the supplies we need to maintain our current level of control."

"What of Shay Cormac?" Spoke Samuel Pitcairn, his brow furrowed in thought. "It was to my belief that he was due back from Europe with the supplies we need any day now."

"Indeed, he was. I recently had word stating, however, that the weather conditions of late across the Atlantic have been far from optimal. We can expect his arrival to be delayed, indefinitely."

Samuel's gaze went to the table, which he studied as he considered other solutions to the problem. Likewise, his companions all began to discuss further possibilities, whilst Haytham looked on- equally determined to think of an answer. His eyes moved to a candle, placed in the centre of the table, and watched as the flames danced and flickered in the air. Transfixed, but still focused on the task at hand, an idea struck him.

"It is possible, however, that if we were to-''

His words faded as he levelled his gaze with that of his followers. They were not listening to him, as he had expected, but were all staring at something behind him. They wore mixed expressions: Thomas looked on, with an interested smile, and Charles glared angrily; the others seemed to be more curious, than anything else. Almost reluctantly, Haytham regarded their looks one more time before cautiously turning to look behind his right shoulder- intrigued as to what could have inspired such an interest in his companions.

Looking up, his eyes widened slightly as they were met by Kira Lawrence's regard. Of course it was her. He cursed himself silently for not having realised sooner, and also for not hearing her approach. He'd have to be more attentive to his environment next time. Pushing these thoughts away, he smiled, courteously.

"Miss Lawrence," He said, nodding his head slightly in greeting. "Can I be of assistance?" It was asked almost ironically- as he realised he was speaking so customarily to an Assassin.

Kira looked down at the man, ignorant of the varied looks she received from the other Templars. He'd looked irritated when he'd first looked at her, and it took her a moment to realise he was frustrated with himself as opposed to her. But now he stared up at her, unwaveringly. That self-assured demeanour of his that always seemed to be so impossible to breach, restored before her eyes, and in a matter of seconds. She suddenly felt vulnerable in front of the small assembly- all of her sworn enemies watching her every movement and anticipating her reply- if they decided to attack her now, she wouldn't stand a chance.

"I need to speak with you." She addressed Haytham solely, and quickly added, "Alone."

Somehow Haytham sensed her discomfort, and turning to look across the table at his companions, he could make an educated guess as to why. He nodded to them.

"If you'll excuse me, gentlemen."

He stood, turning away from them and facing Kira, gesturing towards the front door of the inn.

"This way."

…

As Haytham closed the door behind them, Kira walked on a little before stopping and turning to face him. It was late in the evening, and the bustle of the streets had all but vanished, leaving a tranquil feel to the city. Everything was so quiet.

"Well?" Haytham's voice interrupted her thoughts. "What of the journal? Did you find it?"

She regarded him, suddenly lost for words. Most of her was still convinced that what she was doing was wrong. Instead of replying, she nodded, silently. She reached into her coat pocket and withdrew it reluctantly, as Haytham watched inquisitively. She held it in front of her, refusing to let her eyes part with it. The Templar soon decided she wasn't going to say anything, yet.

"And you're willing to give it to me?" He prompted.

"No. Well yes, it's just…"

She gestured in the air slightly with her free hand, as if trying to find the words she needed. Finally she met his gaze.

"… I've read it through, at least a dozen times, and there's nothing there. What do you want from it?"

"It is encrypted. Should you decide to let me have it, it will be a while before we manage to successfully decode the information we are searching for. You're right- there's nothing of value, at least, not at this current time."

"And say I were to give it to you; this information you so desperately seek, it would cause no harm to the Assassins if discovered?"

"No, you have my word."

She sighed, realising that despite her instincts telling her to walk away, she was going to inevitably give it to him. She didn't know why, which was something that concerned her deeply. Still, having finally come to this decision, she asked one last question.

"This journal. How much is it worth to you? Would you value it more than my life?"

Haytham stood, confused by the meaning of her asking such a strange question. He couldn't see why it would matter to her. He decided to be truthful, and he frowned slightly as he answered.

"Yes, I'd say so."

He'd expected her to be somewhat hurt by his response. But instead, she smiled, as if it were what she had wanted to hear.

"Good." She held the diary out to him. "Mr Kenway, the last time we spoke you told me that I owed you my life. Perhaps it was true, perhaps not. But still, I can't give you my life, so instead I offer you something of even higher value in recompense."

She watched as he took it from her.

"Consider all debts I may have had to you repaid. I don't want to see you on these or any other terms again, do you understand?"

"Perfectly, thank you." He nodded gratefully, somewhat amused by her words. He regarded her one last time.

"Goodnight, Miss Lawrence."

And with that he disappeared back inside, leaving Kira watching after him, trying to persuade herself that she had done the right thing. And if not, knowing she would suffer under the consequences.

* * *

Author notes:

Hi, everyone. Thanks for taking the time to read my story so far. Please review, follow, or favourite my story, as I appreciate all feedback, and I'd love to hear what you think. :)

This chapter's a little longer to make up for how late it is. Hope that you enjoyed it, and the next will be out soon.

 _Kittycat312_


	8. Chapter 8 Shay Patrick Cormac

Chapter 8. Shay Patrick Cormac

There was only one day that Kira ever doubted her creed- and it was the day that Shay Cormac was killed. Now, as she stood, leaning her back against the wall of a blacksmith's, she reflected on that incident. A day rarely passed without her casting her mind back to when it happened, how it happened… She couldn't help but consider how perhaps, had she been there when Shay was killed, then perhaps the outcome would have been different. Every time she thought about it she felt almost overwhelmed with a sense of, what? Regret? Sadness? Anger? Guilt. Always guilt.

More than anything in the world though, she wished to know how it happened. Not only this- but why the Assassins killed Shay.

She was in New York on that day, and having returned, neither her mentor nor companions would tell her anything of what occurred. There were no reasons given, no questions answered. It was always the same. That 'Shay is dead', and that nothing more would be said. On numerous occasions since, she had pleaded with Achilles to tell her something- anything- to satisfy her. He was afraid, for some reason she could not understand, of speaking the truth. He didn't want her to know.

Kira supposed she wanted to know so that she could reassure herself. Reassure herself that it was for the best, or that there was nothing she could have done. Maybe then she wouldn't live with the burden of feeling that she had in some way betrayed Shay. She wasn't there when he needed her, despite him always being around when she needed him to be. He wouldn't have let her die, no matter what the circumstances were. He was her closest friend and someone she could always trust, always rely on. She only wished she could have somehow had an opportunity to thank him, for everything he had done for her, before he had died.

Suddenly something struck Kira on the shoulder, unbalancing her temporarily and awakening her from her thoughts. It was a man, passing by, who hadn't even realised he had knocked into her- that, or a man acting with a pretence of obliviousness to the fact his shoulder had collided with hers. He hurried on, and she cursed after him as she returned to her previous position against the wall. Having been so abruptly brought back to reality, she turned her attention to the street before her. Surveying the crowds, she could not see the person she was waiting for. Sighing, she let her eyes wonder over the mass of people, all crowded around the various stalls and shops that formed one of Boston's many small marketplaces.

Towards the end of the street, two men pushed their way- one with far more dignity than the other- through the crowds. Kira spotted them as soon as they came into sight.

Good. They were finally here.

…

"Now remember, Thomas, I need your constant surveillance over any black markets of which you are aware. If we are to progress any further in locating the precursor site, we will need to find the second amulet that William believes Miller's journal to be identifying." Haytham spoke clearly, pausing only briefly as he stepped around a man conversing with another.

"But what happens if there ain't no second amulet to find?"

"William is fairly certain that there will be, rest assured."

Haytham listened as Thomas Hickey then responded- talking to him of the various black markets, and reassuring him that he would do his utmost to trace the amulet, despite the fact that it may or may not exist. As he took note of what his companion was saying, he surveyed the marketplace before him. It was far busier than usual, and he hadn't a clue as to why. Summer was fast approaching, and Haytham observed the various crops and groceries for sale on the different stands, noticing their obtrusive quality. The farmers must be making the most of the good weather, he concluded, and that would explain why the marketplace was always so busy this time of the year. 

Realising now that he had missed half of what Hickey had said, he turned his attention back to him and was about to press him further on the matter of the elusive amulet when he heard, from nearby, a low whistle. Looking around, he seemed to be the only person to have heard it, and presumed that all others had disregarded the sound. He did not, and instead, stopped, and began to look around for the source of the noise. Suddenly it was repeated, and this time he was able to pinpoint it to an alley that lay close-by. By now Thomas had sensed his master's ignorance of his words, and he too stopped, looking inquisitively at Haytham.

"Sir?" He addressed him, cautiously.

"Go on ahead, Thomas. Expect me to join you shortly." Haytham replied, his eyes not leaving the alley.

Knowing that there was no point in questioning these words, the other Templar shrugged his shoulders, and then continued on through the marketplace. Having been left alone, Haytham glanced around carefully before beginning to tread, hesitantly, towards the alley. On nearing it, he noted how it seemed to be bare, and began to doubt whether this was truly the source of the whistle he had heard.

Rounding the corner of a blacksmith's to the entrance of the alley, he felt a sudden grip on his arm, which was then tugged violently to pull him further into the shadows of the side-street. Before he could prevent it he felt his back hit stone as he was thrust up against a wall, and his arms were pinned by the side of his head. He writhed fiercely to get free, and could sense the strain of whoever's grip was restraining him as they struggled to hold him in place. Finally, he allowed his eyes to look down and meet those of his attacker, and he momentarily stopped trying to break free as he realised to whom they belonged. 

Kira glared at him as she somehow managed to keep him pinned to the wall. He was much stronger than her, past encounters had revealed, but with the element of surprise on her side she found she had enough strength to hold him there long enough for him to realise who she was. On seeing his expression change slightly, she realised he had acknowledged her and allowed herself to weaken her grip on him marginally. It was a mistake, for as soon as she did, he pushed her aggressively away from him, causing her to stagger backwards, and giving him enough time to draw his sword and hold it up, warningly, towards her.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He spoke sternly, holding his sword steadily.

She held her hands up quickly in a form of surrender, somewhat worried by the thought of fighting this man, and especially for her life. "Wait!" She asked, desperately.

"What for? You'd better have a damned good reason for this."

"I do, please, just…" She cast a glance towards the blade which was so dangerously near to her. "… I just want to talk."

His gaze hardened. "You made it clear that you had no wish of talking."

"I know I did. But this is important." She pleaded.

He realised soon enough that she meant no harm to him, and with a final warning glance, he sheathed his sword, whilst sighing impatiently.

"I'm busy." He said, his voice no longer harsh, but still irate. "I've no intention of wasting my time here."

"Look," She spoke far more confidently without a blade being held towards her, he noted. "When you came to talk to me before at the inn, I had no reason to listen to you. But I did, so you could at least do the same for me."

He hesitated before speaking, a slight smile playing across his lips. "We're back to this again, are we? Owing each other?"

"You owe me nothing, nor I you. I'm asking you to show the same courtesy to me now, that I showed to you then."

He stood for a while, saying nothing, and seemingly pondering over whether to listen to her or not. After what felt like an hour to Kira, despite only being a matter of seconds, he seated himself on an upturned crate and rested his gaze on her.

"Go ahead. Whatever you wish to say, say it now." He commanded simply. 

Now it was her turn to look indecisive. Truth be told, she hadn't expected- only hoped- to get this far with him, and having done so, she struggled to find the words she needed to ask him what she wanted to know. Having tossed the words around in her head for a few moments, she coolly returned his expectant gaze, and decided to ask him as straightforwardly as possible.

"What know you of Shay Cormac?"

He frowned, ever so faintly. "What anybody else knows. Have you anything in particular you wish to know?"

"You said to Pitcairn the other day that he was on his way here from Europe. Is this true?"

"Yes, what need would I have had I to lie about that?"

"But…" Haytham noticed how lost she looked as she tried to finish the sentence. "Shay Cormac is dead. He died a long time ago. If what you say is true, then he would have to be alive."

"He is alive. Very much so. But the Assassins discovered this years ago, not long after he was presumed dead."

"…They did?" 

Her voice faltered, and suddenly feeling a mixture of emotions wash over her, she turned to look into space, her mind desperately seeking answers. It made no sense, that Shay had survived and that no one had informed her. Why would Achilles lie to her? Especially when he knew how much Shay had meant to her, and how heavily burdened she felt by his death. Her mentor would never lie to her, of that she was certain, but then again, what reason would Haytham have to lie to her now? They could not both be telling the truth, but why would either of them be lying?

"Miss Lawrence?" Haytham sensed her uncertainty, and in doing so, knew that she was probably judging the credibility of his words. It didn't surprise him, but still, all of a sudden he became anxious to have her believe him. After all, he wasn't lying to her. At that moment, he realised that she would be of no further use to him unless she trusted him, something she was far from likely to doing. That being said, he had thought of a good idea of how to make her do so, all the same.

"Yes?" She responded, turning her eyes to him once more.

"Shay is due to arrive here two days from now. If you do not believe him to be alive, you are more than welcome to join me in meeting him at the docks."

Kira hesitated before replying immediately. For all she knew this was some sort of trap, and if so, then only God knew what the consequences of falling for it would be. But in her mind, she concluded that any chance of seeing Shay alive was well worth the risk. She couldn't chance turning down the Templar's offer, when he may be telling the truth.

"If what you say of Shay is true, then yes, I'd like to accompany you."

"Excellent. In two days' time, then, I will meet you there."

From the way he spoke, and from the way he looked at her, Kira knew she was doing exactly as Haytham wanted. Whatever plan he had, she was playing her part in it exactly as how he desired her to- and even knowing this, she still did so. She didn't like it, but what could she do? If it meant meeting with Shay again, then she didn't have any other choice.

* * *

Author notes:

Hi, everyone. Thanks for taking the time to read my story so far. Please review, follow, or favourite my story, as I appreciate all feedback, and I'd love to hear what you think. :)

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed my story so far, it's great to hear from you and to know what you think. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and with luck, I'll get the next one out sooner.

 _Kittycat312_


	9. Chapter 9 Discovering the Truth

Chapter 9. Discovering the Truth

The air was still as Kira sharply inhaled and drew her bow. The string pulled at her fingers, solid with tension, as she allowed her eyes to stare steadily forward, peering keenly into the dense forest that lay before her. In the distance, a slight movement in a patch of foliage told her where her target lay, oblivious of her and her presence. The rabbit moved slowly through the grass, its pale brown pelt barely visible in the early-morning light. Kira aimed forwards, her hands shaking unconsciously with the anticipation of the hunt…

"Aim a little higher."

Connor's voice surprised her into releasing the string prematurely, and she watched, dejectedly, as her shot went long, sending the arrow into a tree near to her quarry and frightening it further into the undergrowth. She straightened, cursing, as she turned to face the man who had spoiled her pursuit of the rabbit.

"Damn you, Connor, I almost had it."

"You would have missed, you were aiming too low."

"Well it hardly matters now, does it? Truth be told, your input didn't exactly improve the situation." She paused to regard the arrow, sticking obtrusively out of the tree up ahead. "… Or my aim." She sighed.

He smiled, amused by her attitude as her frown faded into a smile when her eyes met with his once more. "Never mind." She continued, "I'm sure you'll have more success than me. I'll leave it up to you to find something for dinner tonight."

"Of course." He replied, then regarded her with a frown. "Although it is hardly yet morning. You have plenty of time to continue your pursuits."

"I'm afraid not. I have somewhere to be soon, and I don't want to be late. Here, can you take this back to the manor? I'd better leave now if I'm to be on time." She handed him the bow and a quiver full of arrows, and watched as he slung each over his shoulder.

"Yes, but where are you going?" He enquired, curiously.

"I'm meeting an old friend, one you haven't met. I'll be back by the evening, though. Please tell Achilles I said as much."

He nodded, and watched as she turned and began to head towards the road which would lead her through the frontier and out towards Boston, bidding him farewell as she did so. He thought for a moment that perhaps he should follow her, merely to see what she was up to, for it wasn't like her to be so vague about her plans. Still, he decided against this. He'd find out one way or another, that much was certain.

…

Kira sat on a sealed crate, filled with some sort of cargo, as she watched the waves lap up against the shore of the harbour. It was still relatively early in the morning, and despite seeing the odd sailor or citizen stroll by, she noted that the harbour was still largely deserted, and bare of the life and bustle she knew it to so usually possess. She felt uneasy in seeing the almost abandoned state of the docks. If this was a trap, which she was increasingly believing it to be, then perhaps it would have been safer with more people around. Now, sitting alone, and being so unsure of what would happen, she'd never felt so vulnerable. Still, acting afraid was hardly going to assist her if she were to find herself in some sort of trouble, and after reminding herself of this, she put out of her mind the uncertainty of the future, and instead turned her thoughts to what would happen if Shay was truly alive.

More than anything in the world she wanted this to be so, although she had to admit, she was hardly optimistic about what the day would bring. What would it mean if Shay were alive, though? She would have to determine why Achilles had lied to her, and how she hadn't somehow found out… but if she were to confront her mentor about Shay then he would know that she had been speaking to Haytham despite him condemning this. She had gone against all of his orders and advice, and how could she admit to that? But then again, she had to know why he'd lied to her.

… _If_ he'd lied to her, that is.

The whole situation seemed to be becoming more and more uncontrollable. There was so much she needed to know, to do, but completing this would only land her in a worse position. She felt like such a fool. It was her fault she was in this current state of indecision, no one else's. She had put herself here, and done so willingly. Perhaps, she should leave the harbour now before any developments were made, and before she discovered any truths. Wouldn't that be easier? She'd lived before thinking that Shay was dead, surely she could do the same again, although with some doubt? Some hope as to his survival? The thoughts and questions surged around her mind, and having been able to make some sense of them, she settled on this. She would leave, now.

She rose from the crate, regarding the beauty of the open ocean that lay, spread out for miles in front of her, with the intention of doing so.

"Miss Lawrence."

Spoke the unmistakable voice from behind her. She stared down at her feet for a second, sighing and cursing to herself for taking so long to make her decision. She was too late, of course. She straightened and turned to face Haytham as he strolled casually towards her, evidently in no hurry, as she desperately tried to look as confident as possible.

"Mr. Kenway."

She replied coolly, doing the best she could to disguise the discomfort in her voice. She felt so trapped, for how could she possibly leave now when she was so close to discovering the truth? Even if it was not in her greatest interests to do so. She stood, firmly, as he smiled politely and asked: "You're still convinced this is a trap of some sort?"

He'd seen through her pretences. Even if Achilles had lied to her about Shay, he had certainly not been lying when talking about Haytham's expertise in perception. She shrugged, almost relieved she wouldn't have to maintain the falsely confident demeanour, but at the same time scolded herself for being so easy to read. "I have every reason to think that it is." She spoke, irritably.

"True enough." He replied, his voice annoyingly nonchalant. "Still, I assure you it is not. What reason have you to not believe my words are true?"

"I don't trust you." The response came quicker than she had wished, and she sounded unintentionally harsh. She stood by what she had said, but couldn't help feeling guilty for how insensitive it had sounded. That being said, he didn't seem at all offended, for now a slightly playful smile played across his lips.

"It's funny…" He smirked, "I remember Ziio said that to me once."

She felt her cheeks grow somewhat hotter as she realised what he was suggesting. She did not know much about Connor's mother- he rarely spoke of her- but she didn't have to guess very hard in what the woman's feelings must have developed to for Haytham. His smile had faded now, but his eyes still sparkled with amusement as he watched her reaction to his remark; for it had affected her in the way he had expected, and wanted it to. He decided however to not let her suffer in discomfiture for too long, and changed the subject quickly for her sake.

"So how is it that you had not yet discovered of Shay's survival?" He asked, genuinely intrigued, as this was something he could not speculate the answer to.

She sighed in relief at the new focus of the conversation. She composed her thoughts as she began to explain. "I haven't lived in America for as long as I told you I had. After Shay was killed, I went to Europe, and spent a few years travelling around to the different communities of Assassins." She shrugged her shoulders as she continued.

"Perhaps I heard word of Shay once or twice whilst there, but it was always so vague and I'd always discarded it as being true. When I did finally return, Achilles told me that the Templars had practically destroyed the brotherhood- but he never said that Shay was… well, alive." She described, confused, but then quickly added "… I'm still not convinced that he is, though."

"What will happen, then, when you realise that I speak the truth?"

Her eyes somewhat glazed over with thought as she speculated what would be the consequences of Shay being alive. She realised Haytham was still waiting expectantly for an answer, and shook her head as she frowned. "I don't know."

He didn't respond at all, instead just waited for some sort of expansion to her answer, as if he were expecting her to reveal some sort of idea of what was running through her head, as she was clearly in deep thought. Staring intensely at her, he wished he knew what she was thinking. Her gaze had shifted to the distance, but soon she realised he was waiting for more, and her eyes levelled once again with his. She felt instantly frustrated at how he expected a further answer to such a demanding question. She disregarded him with a wave of her hand, breaking eye contact once more. "I don't know what will happen, alright? It's just… complicated." Her gaze hardened. "You wouldn't understand."

"Of course I understand."

"What? How? How could you possibly…"

"Because more than anyone in the world at this moment, I know the extent of the situation you are in. So yes, I do understand. I understand the whole thing perfectly."

For some strange reason she found the words surprisingly comforting. She had thought that no one knew the decisions she was having to make, the position she was in. She had forgotten that Haytham had been there from the start; and that of course he understood. It was oddly reassuring to know that someone could empathise with her, even if that someone had contributed largely to the troubles she was facing. He had turned away though, clearly irritated at being distrusted. She took a step forward to say something when…

"Kira?"

She spun around immediately on hearing her name- her name, spoken in the thick Irish accent she had missed for so many years. "Shay?" He was standing a few yards away, as still and yet as sure as a statue, his eyes a mixed array of emotions. Haytham had turned ever so slightly at hearing his fellow Templar's voice, uncertain of whether or not to be pleased that Kira would now have to believe his words, or to be angry that she had ever doubted them. He couldn't help but feel happy for her though, as she took a few steps towards her long-lost friend, eyes widened in disbelief.

After realising it was indeed Kira standing in front of his Grand Master, Shay made his way towards her, his arms outstretching as he drew closer, and soon drawing her into an affectionate embrace. She stood, powerless to his actions as she acknowledged his presence- acknowledged the fact that he was alive, and with her, and holding her… She'd missed him so much. Her own arms wound around him, pulling him closer as she looked up at his face. He'd changed a huge amount since when she had last seen him, but he was still the man she had known all that time ago, she could see it in his eyes. And his smile, for now he beamed down at her, his eyes alive with delight.

"My God," he said, warmly, "You're still as beautiful as I remember."

She blushed slightly at the compliment, before replying in an equally warm voice, "And you're still as roguishly handsome." She broke the embrace in order to step back and admire the man he had become. He was much older, obviously, but he still wore the same cocky smile, and carried the same self- assurance as he always had done. She was grateful- for it was one of the things she had always loved about him. "I'm so glad to see you, Shay." She purred, contently.

"And I you." He responded, "I have so much to tell you."

"Oh, I'm sure." She was about to continue before realising Haytham was still waiting to be recognised behind her. She paused and looked back to Shay. "…That would be wonderful, but I believe you are expected somewhere." She cast a glance towards Haytham, who had stood, unacknowledged, and watching the whole reunion rather indifferently. He stepped forward, speaking for the first time in a few minutes.

"She's right, Shay. The others are expecting us.

"But I…"

"It's alright, Shay. We can talk later." Kira spoke, affectionately. She wished she had more time to ask him questions- for she had many- and to hear what he had to say. That being said, she at least knew she would be able to do so later on. She turned to address Haytham. "You go on ahead, I'd better return home- for I know Connor was suspicious of my leaving."

"Very well." He nodded, turning to speak to Shay.

"Oh, and thank you." Her words interrupted his actions as his focus shifted back to her. She was smiling at him, for the first time, a very real and sincere smile. "… For everything." She added.

He returned the expression, politely. "You're very welcome." He said.

Shay watched, confused as to why his friend and the Grand Master were even together in the first place, but shrugged it off, realising he would have to wait until later to find anything out. Still, it was surprising to see his leader speaking so kindly to an Assassin.

"And I hope to see you again soon, Shay." Kira's voice disturbed his thoughts, although this was a welcome disturbance.

"As do I you." He returned simply, yet still caringly, as she nodded her head in farewell to both Templars, before turning to walk away.

As Kira strolled further from the two men, she couldn't help smiling to herself. Perhaps there would be some dreadful consequences to what had just occurred, but for the moment at least, she couldn't care less.

* * *

Author notes:

Hi, everyone. Thanks for taking the time to read my story so far. Please review, follow, or favourite my story, as I appreciate all feedback, and I'd love to hear what you think. :)

I'd hoped to have had written/published this chapter a while back, but I've been super busy with exams and other such things recently. Thanks for the understanding, and I hope the chapter was worth the wait. Any feedback would be really appreciated, as I'm really keen to hear what you guys think. Next chapter will be out soon, if I can find the time to write it. :D

 _Kittycat312_


	10. Chapter 10 On A Rooftop

Chapter 10. On A Rooftop

"So, Connor, what have you discovered of the Templars lately?" Achilles addressed the young man across the table as he, Connor and Kira sat down to breakfast. Connor looked up from his meal and cast a look of frustration at his mentor.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." He spoke, irritably, and was obviously not in the mood to be pressed on the matter. Achilles sighed.

"After all of this time?"

"I've tried, Achilles. As I have said time and time again, any effort I seem to put in is rewarded only by false leads and dead ends. It is impossible to find any information of use."

He returned to his breakfast, and having decided that his apprentice had nothing more to say, Achilles turned to Kira instead. She was clearly lost in thought and ignorant of anything that had just been said. She had been unusually pensive recently, and it had been a while since she had reported anything to him. He wasn't really sure what she had been up to recently.

"How about you, Kira?" He began, in an almost accusatory tone, "Have you discovered anything of late?"

Connor looked up at his companion, in hope she would have something to reveal- and becoming aware of both men's questioning gazes and on realising she was the focus of them, Kira met Achilles' regard. "Yes," She returned, to the others' surprise, as she carried on smugly, "I do not have much to divulge, but I have at least made small progress in our endeavours."

"Out with it…" Achilles pressed, whilst Connor leant forwards in his chair, intrigued by this latest development. Kira waited, with no intention of revealing the entirety of her recent activities, but still deciding she could find something to tell her mentor; for she'd heard the accusation in his words before and hadn't liked it.

"I was able to locate Haytham yesterday, and I tailed him to the docks. He met a man there…" She hesitated. "A man I didn't recognise. Although he had come from a ship bearing all kinds of cargo. Weapons, ammunition, medicinal supplies... if there's anything we can be certain of it is that the Templars will not be lacking in provisions.'

"So that is where you went yesterday." Connor stated. "Why did you not tell me?"

"Because you would have wanted to come with me. I couldn't risk having the two of us following your father- Achilles is right, he's a careful man. It was easier to do it on my own." She lied.

Connor nodded, somewhat annoyed that he had been left out, and yet fully understanding of the fact that Kira had acted sensibly. There was certainly logic in her words. Achilles had been distracted by his thoughts, but was now addressing the woman.

"That makes sense." He stated, as he withdrew a small, neatly folded piece of paper from the inside pocket of his robes. "I have a note, here, from one of the recruits. They had been tasked with observing William Johnson's activities, and had concluded that on the nineteenth of May- that's tomorrow- he was meeting, with some others, an unknown man. I had disregarded it, but this could most probably be the man that you saw yesterday, Kira."

"You're right, that seems likely. Did he say where they would be meeting, and what time?"

"Outside of Hardy's General Store, in New York. There's no specific time, but he has determined it will be in the late evening. Do you know the place?"

"I do, but that's a long journey. I could make it there on time if I left early tomorrow morning."

"Wait," Connor interjected, suddenly feeling neglected from the plans, "I should go."

"No, Connor." Achilles stopped him. "I want Kira to handle this, she has far more experience than you. That being said, I'll allow you to accompany her." He turned his attention to Kira. "I'll let you make the decision on whether you want Connor to go with you."

Kira paused, indecisively. She was pleased Achilles had chosen her to lead the assignment, and she knew Connor would be keen to join her. She decided that he coming with her couldn't hurt. She turned to her fellow Assassin. "I'd be happy for you to go with me, Connor."

He smiled, appreciatively, as Achilles nodded his head in agreement with his eldest student. "That's fine. But Connor, I want you to remember that Kira is in charge. You follow her orders as if they were my own, understood?"

"Of course." Connor decided it was best to swallow his pride and go along with his mentor's wishes. He didn't like the idea of being told what to do, but if it meant he could assist Kira, then he would have to.

"Excellent. Everything is settled then. Kira, you are to leave early tomorrow morning. I suggest the two of you spend the rest of the day preparing for the trip."

…

"Is there any sign of them?" Connor asked, impatiently, as he watched his companion look over the chimney behind which she was crouched. He too was concealed behind the slant of the roof of the general store, and he rose slightly in order to survey the street below.

"No." Kira stated, focused on also observing the same street. She was already regretting bringing the younger Assassin, for it must have been, what felt like, the hundredth time he'd asked that question in the last half-hour. "For heaven's sake Connor, be patient." She hissed, under her breath.

He frowned, eager for something- anything- to happen. He neglected his surveillance and instead turned his attention to the night sky that spread endlessly above. He had already spent an hour, at least, regarding the ocean of stars, and had grown tired of the unchanging scene. There was only so long you could study something, no matter how expansive it was, and still find it interesting. He sighed. That was what he thought, anyway. His mind turned to the subject of his father. It had been a long time since he had last seen him, and he pondered over how it would be to see him again. Haytham always fascinated him- he struggled so often to perceive him as his father, for he seemed like such a different man from himself. How would things be if his father was an Assassin, though? Perhaps they would-

"Connor, they're here." Kira whispered, although loudly enough for him to hear. He crept forwards slightly towards her.

"Who?" He asked.

Her eyes didn't move from the street below. "Your father, and the man from the ship." It was Shay, though she was careful not to say so. "No doubt Johnson will be here soon."

She was right, for only a few moments later, William Johnson had appeared and had soon joined the assembly below. Kira turned to Connor, placing a finger to her lips in an effort to silence him. With the other hand, she beckoned for him to come forwards. He moved to join her behind the chimney, which was large enough to conceal both of them. He peered around it, as Kira was doing, to watch the Templars greet each other below. The street was bare of any other people, and despite the quietness with which they spoke, both Assassins could hear them clearly enough.

Kira could feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest, for all of the men below were cautious, and it would only take one of them to glance up for her and Connor's position to be revealed. She studied Haytham specifically, for if anyone would detect them, it would likely be him. She was glad she had done so, for, when moments later, he began to look up at the rooftop, she had been ready and had pulled Connor further behind the chimney and out of sight. After waiting for a minute more and hearing nothing, she was convinced they had not been seen. The air was so still, and she noticed that the tension was getting to Connor too, for she could see the nervousness in his eyes. Satisfied that Haytham would had finished his study of the rooftops, Kira resumed her own surveillance, silently listening to the conversation below.

…

For ten minutes the Templars discussed unimportant things, and soon it was clear that they weren't going to reveal anything significant in their exchange. Kira listened on, still ready to duck behind the chimney should someone look up. However, she was aware that Connor was becoming decreasingly interested in the conversation taking place below.

"So how fares our progress here in America?" Shay was asking both William and Haytham.

"I am satisfied we have things under control." Haytham replied. "Despite the trouble the revolutionaries are stirring up, with the new supplies, I am certain we can maintain our influence."

"That's good to hear." Shay nodded. "And what of the Assassins?"

Both Kira and Connor tensed slightly at hearing their creed mentioned, and now Connor's attention had been recaptured temporarily as he waited anxiously for the reply.

Haytham smiled. "Likewise." He said. "Under control. For now, at least."

Connor sighed impatiently, turning to his companion. "We are achieving nothing here." Although he realised soon enough that his words were being ignored, for Kira was instead focused on what Shay was saying.

"How about Kira Lawrence?"

Kira wasn't sure how she could be any more still, but she still felt herself freeze over slightly as she prayed silently for neither Shay nor Haytham to speak of what had occurred two days before, for once again Connor had silenced and was listening for his father's reply.

Haytham's smile widened, marginally. "We needn't worry about her, if that's what you mean." He replied.

Connor rose, slightly, as if about to stand up. "What are you doing?" Kira hissed, "Get down!"

"We will learn nothing this way. I am going down there."

"Don't be ridiculous, get back here, now. That's an order." Her voice grew slightly louder, though still went unheard by the gathering below. Unheard by Connor too, apparently, for he was now standing, and beginning to approach the edge of the rooftop, ready to jump down. "Connor!" She gasped. Instinctively she lurched forwards silently and seized his arm- stopping him at once. Her contact had surprised him though, and, his balance having been disturbed, he misjudged a step and his foot landed heavily on a loose roof tile, and Kira watched, despairingly, as it tumbled towards the ground. Before it landed, she tugged Connor violently and yet still quietly behind the chimney, and then grimaced as she heard the tile shatter against the cobblestone street. Her breath caught in her throat as she heard the Templars voices stop, suddenly. She closed her eyes, wincingly.

The whole street had gone silent, and each moment to Kira seemed like an hour.

"Miss Lawrence? It's awfully kind of you to join us." Came a low voice from below. Haytham's, of course. Kira opened her eyes slowly, and glared angrily at Connor as he stared apologetically back.

"What do we do?" He asked, quietly.

"We're not doing anything. _You_ , are leaving. _I_ am going to deal with this. Head back to the manor without me, alright? As soon as you can get away unnoticed. I'll…" She couldn't for the life of her think of a way out of her present predicament. "I don't know what I'm going to do."

"But I can help…"

"Go, Connor." She commanded, her gaze hardening. "That's an order. For your own sake, and mine, follow it this time." With one last glance, she stood, raising herself into the sight of all three of the men below. Nervously, she began to make her way down the building, and soon found herself standing awkwardly in front of the small assembly.

Haytham figured he ought to be angry that she was listening in on their talk; but in all honesty he was relieved. This conversation had been largely unimportant, however the one he had had with Hickey that morning had been essential to keep confidential. He was just grateful she had witnessed this meeting, and not the earlier one. He regarded her and tilted his head slightly to the side. "Find out anything interesting?" He enquired, sarcastically. Kira considered him with a look of annoyance, in no mood for his mockery. She only wished he knew that she hadn't been so foolish as to dislodge the roof tile. Still, she had to say something, but then again, she had to be careful of what she said, for she could sense Connor was still above of them.

"Nothing out of the ordinary. Templars are plotting bad things, I'm just trying to prevent them." She sighed.

He smiled, entertained by her attitude. "Of course. I'm sorry to inconvenience you in such a way."

"Oh, that's alright. I wouldn't have much else to do if you didn't."

She tried to ignore the fact that he was smiling amusedly at her, but knowing that Connor could only hear her, and not see her, she allowed a similar smile to play across her lips. Shay watched the almost childish exchange between his friend and Grand Master, smiling himself, whilst William observed it uncomprehendingly. However, still listening to the conversation from above, Connor admired how well Kira was handling herself. She seemed so unnerved, so unaffected by the difficult position she was in, for her words were spoken unwaveringly. Little known to him was the fact that Kira had somewhat figured from her past meetings with Haytham that he wasn't a threat. At least, not if he hadn't been provoked. Her smile faded after moment and her face grew grave.

"In all seriousness though, Mr Kenway, you know as well as I do that nothing you have said will be of any use to me. I haven't heard anything I shouldn't have."

"True enough."

"Good, then if you'll excuse me…"

Connor didn't wait to see what happened next, but decided that now was as good a time as any to take his leave, and with a glance over the chimney at Kira and the Templars below, he swiftly fled from the scene. Kira, however, despite her best efforts, would not make such an easy escape.

"Hold on a moment." Haytham spoke, his voice filled with authority. Kira had turned her back on them and began to walk away, but now had stopped.

"What?" She replied, without turning around. She so wanted to just take off now and hope that none of the men would chase after her.

"Perhaps, before you go, you'd be interested in hearing news of Miller's journal?"

She spun around to face them again, her curiosity aroused. "What of it?"

"See for yourself."

He withdrew it from his pocket and offered it to her, and she hesitated before taking it from him. As she opened it she observed that there were loose pieces of paper within, with various interpretations of different passages in the book, where each sentence had been analysed meticulously. From what she saw, the Templars were certainly making some sense of it all, but there was nothing yet of importance. She held it out to Haytham and watched as he took it, placing it carefully back into his pocket. "There isn't much to see." She said, critically.

"Not yet. But it's a start." It was William who stepped forward to address her remark. She gathered it would be he who was deciphering the journal, and realised she had most probably offended him.

"Indeed." She replied, for undoubtedly some progress had been made. "If you discover something though, you will tell me?"

William certainly looked unsure of how to reply, and turned towards Haytham for guidance. The Grand Master nodded at him, though, and so he turned to face Kira once more. He didn't like promising an Assassin any information he would discover, and wondered why on earth Haytham would grant her knowledge of it in the first place. He himself possessed hardly any awareness of the woman standing before him, God knew what she could use the information from the journal for. Still, he said reproachfully: "Apparently so."

"Good. Then I can take my leave?" The question was now targeted at Haytham, and like he had done to William, he nodded curtly at her.

With a farewell glance at Shay, Kira took the opportunity of escape before Haytham could change his mind, and soon all three men watched as she began her journey back to the manor, where, when she arrived, she was sure both her mentor and fellow Assassin would be anxiously waiting. William watched her go before turning to regard Haytham with a questioning expression. On noticing it, the Grand Master offered a reassuring smile.

"You needn't look so bewildered, William. I will explain everything on our return to the inn."

"I look forward to hearing it." William looked up at where Kira had been, moments before. "Fascinating woman." He said, after pausing for a while, and then looked to Haytham for his thoughts.

"Indeed…" Haytham commented in response, casting his eyes up to where Kira had been concealed on the rooftop above of them, and then to the shattered roof tile on the ground next to him. "I only wish for her to tell my son to watch where he puts his feet in the future."

He continued to observe the tile dislodged by his son, as his companions looked on at him, perplexed.

* * *

Author notes:

Hi, everyone. Thanks for taking the time to read my story so far. Please review, follow, or favourite my story, as I appreciate all feedback, and I'd love to hear what you think. :)

I'd like to thank anyone who has commented, and hope you all enjoyed this chapter- I've made it a bit longer than the others. I'm going to do my best to get the next one out on Christmas day. :D

 _Kittycat312_


	11. Chapter 11 The Politician

Chapter 11. The Politician

It was daybreak when Kira finally arrived at the manor, and already the light of the summer sun shone through the leaves of the trees under which she passed, and the forest was alive with the sound of birdsong. It should have been beautiful; but having trudged for hours through undergrowth and along countless damp woodland paths, it had long ago lost its charm for Kira. She couldn't wait to escape it.

That is what she had been telling herself, at least, until the manor came into sight.

Undoubtedly Connor and her mentor would be there, anticipating her safe return, and eager to hear of what had occurred since Connor had last left her. They would be relieved, mostly, she assured herself- but for how long? Once that relief had subsided, they would certainly have questions. She would have to explain how she had got away, why she had done so so easily. How could she answer, without giving her past actions away? She'd have to think of something- she had to prepare. Pausing at the edge of the forest, she found a comfortable place to rest against a large rock which stood, lodged into the ground where she sat. The stone was cold- cold enough to pass through the fabrics of her Assassins' robe and reach her skin, sending shivers up her spine. The grass was wet with morning dew, and it chilled her hands as she moved them to her side. Still, she would at least have time now to reflect on what she would say to Achilles and Connor.

…

"Connor." Kira called out, approaching the clearing in which several training dummies stood, one presently being split down the middle by Connor's hidden blade. He turned his head towards her, blade still lodged in the dummy's torso.

"Kira?" With one swift movement he withdrew his weapon as his eyes fell on her. She watched, amusedly, as a guilty expression crossed his face. He stepped forward towards her. "I'm sorry." He said. He didn't like apologising, for he didn't feel he was entirely responsible for what had happened, but he knew he had been at fault. Despite being forced, the apology was genuine. "I should have stayed and helped."

"No." She had by now reached him, and she placed a hand forgivingly on his shoulder. "You did what I asked. For that, I am grateful."

She smiled at him as he nodded in return. He didn't realise how truly grateful she was that he had left when he had. True, he should have been more careful, but she didn't want him having a guilty conscience for his mistake. He smiled cautiously in return- it seemed strange that he was so easily forgiven.

"Now," she said, removing her hand from his shoulder and straightening slightly, "where is Achilles? I need to talk to him."

"The last time I saw, he was in the study, dealing with his personal correspondence."

"Good, I'll go there now." Her eyes moved to study the sand spilling out of the sandbag which made up the training dummy's torso that Connor had been in the process of mutilating. "You stay, and finish with your friend here." She gestured towards the dummy with a nod of her head.

He laughed, quietly. "I will."

Kira waited for him to turn away, before turning herself, and then making her way to the manor. She took a deep breath as she reached the front door- hesitating- before placing her hand on the handle and turning it, pushing the door open. She stepped inside reluctantly. Before she knew it, she found she had reached the study door, which was odd, because she couldn't even recall getting there. Her mind had been so clouded with thoughts that she'd been unaware of her own actions. Yet with all of these considerations, she felt ready. She knew what to say. Like she had done so before, she pressed her hand to the door and pushed it open.

Achilles was sat at his desk, surrounded by papers and letter, one of which he was in the process of opening when she entered. He looked up on hearing her entry, and smiled as he acknowledged she was back.

"Kira, it is good to see you alive and well. From what Connor told me, I had reason to believe you'd be in a worse state."

"So did I. It was a difficult situation."

"So I hear. Anyway, it's good that you're back- I have work for you to do."

"Really?" Having prepared herself for a barrage of questions, Kira was surprised that the subject had so quickly changed from the events of the last evening. Achilles didn't seem anxious at all hearing what had occurred, so whatever 'work' he was talking about now had to be important. Still, despite being stunned, Kira decided to leap at the opportunity to avoid questions while she still could. "What is it?" She pressed.

He paused, before opening a drawer and pulling out a piece of paper. Having studied it for a few moments, he held it out to her. "This man, Benjamin Fletcher, have you heard of him?"

She took it, and considered the picture of the man sketched onto it. "I can't say I have."

"He's a politician. He wasn't stirring up trouble, but recently he has been aiding our enemies, most importantly, the Templars. He can't be allowed to continue, if you know what I mean."

"I know what you mean. Where can I find him?"

Another piece of paper was withdrawn from the drawer and offered to her. "Here. He's holding a ball to celebrate his recent arrival from successful business in Europe, in four days' time. This is an invite- your attending the evening should provide a sufficient opportunity to see to his demise."

"I understand. I'd better start preparations then." She took the invite- already thinking of ways to go about the assassination. She'd have to find information on the building, a layout of the area, and assess what would be the best way to kill the man. And, information would have to be gathered on him himself, of course. She needed to know who she was going up against. Overall though, it seemed like an interesting enough venture to occupy her for the next few days. She regarded Achilles with a hesitant look.

"Will Connor be assisting me with this?"

"No. His time is better spent here, training. I want you to handle this on your own."

"If that is what you think is best."

"I do."

She smiled warmly. "Alright. Is that all?"

"It is."

She turned away to leave, but was stopped as he continued: "Oh, and Kira."

"Hmm?"

"This can't go wrong. I'm relying on you to see to that."

"It won't. You have my word."

With that, she took her leave, and felt an overwhelming sense of relief as she closed the door quietly behind her. Last night was in the past, and no questions had been asked. She decided to put it all behind her, and focus on this new endeavour. She had decided she'd better not tell Connor right away about this assassination- she didn't want him to be disheartened by the fact that he was missing out, or feel like it had been because of the mistake he'd made the night before. She sighed, moving to a window that looked over the grounds. Looking out of it, she caught sight of Connor, still mercilessly attacking each and every training dummy. It would be easier to do the job without him, she assured herself, but she couldn't help feeling guilty that he wasn't being allowed to help her. Still, she pushed this thought out of her mind. She couldn't afford to think of him right now- she had preparations to make.

* * *

Author notes:

Hi, everyone. Thanks for taking the time to read my story so far. Please review, follow, or favourite my story, as I appreciate all feedback, and I'd love to hear what you think. :)

Merry Christmas everyone! This was only a short chapter- understandably I've been extremely busy recently. Still, I wanted to make sure I got one out on time for Christmas. I hope you're enjoying the story so far- there'll be more on the way soon.

Kittycat312


	12. Chapter 12 The Celebratory Ball Part 1

Chapter 12. The Celebratory Ball- Part 1

The sound of voices and music filled the air as Kira passed through two grand doors leading to the ballroom of Benjamin Fletcher's mansion. The room felt warm, and was alive with festivities in which a large variety of people, she noted, were participating. To look down the long stairway leading to the ballroom floor was to see an array of exquisite and expensive dresses, and their owners, being twirled around gracefully by their male companions. It was a truly breath-taking scene, and despite being one Kira rarely was able to witness, she enjoyed doing so just the same. She couldn't help sighing slightly; she'd _always_ enjoyed such events, and was frustrated that her profession often prevented her from attending them. Still, casting a small smile and giving a grateful nod to the guard whom had led her through the doors, she stepped forwards and began to descend the steps, letting her hand slide softly along the banister beside her.

When she had reached the bottom, she moved her gaze across the room, and within a minute had determined that Fletcher himself was not yet present. She's have to keep an eye out for him, of course, but for now, with her plan etched inside of her head, she decided to enjoy the evening for as long as she could. She glanced down at her dress, which was navy in colour and decorated with a similar colour lace. It pulled in tightly at her waist, and from there hung down to the floor, where it lightly brushed on the ground. The silky material of which it was made almost shone in the light, similarly to the pearl necklace that draped around her neck. She felt beautiful, for it was indeed a beautiful dress that complimented both her sleek figure and own good-looks. It had been expensive, but a necessary cost… Or so she had told Achilles two days before when requesting him to contribute somewhat to its purchase.

She pushed aside these thoughts, and approached a waiter whom was holding a plate balancing several glasses of wine. She decided to lessen his burden, taking a glass and thanking him before moving to the side of the dance floor, where she could observe the various couples in their dances. She sipped at the drink quietly, allowing herself to take in the cheerful atmosphere and appreciate the music being played by a small orchestra at the end of the room. The festiveness of her surroundings were so different to what she was used to- everyone seemed so jolly, so unaffected by any troubles. She felt comfortable here; where the worries and matters of day-to-day life were tossed out of mind.

Having finished her drink, and noting to herself that Fletcher had still not arrived, she placed the glass on the nearest surface she could find. On turning from this task, she found herself faced by a young looking gentleman, who smiled at her warmly. "Excuse me," he said, in a Spanish accent, which would account for his dark hair and bronzed complexion, "May I have this dance?"

He offered his hand to her, and from his manner she could deduce he was well-intentioned. She smiled back, holding out her own hand delicately and allowing it to be taken by his, "I would be delighted." She replied. Which wasn't a lie, for she couldn't remember the last time she had danced, despite it being something she thoroughly enjoyed.

The Spanish gentleman seemed equally delighted, and led her smoothly to the dance floor, where soon she found herself being waltzed around as she had seen the other women be before. She made light conversation with her partner as he guided her around- he seemed like an awfully kind man, and she thought it a shame that the evening would not offer an opportunity for them to be better acquainted. Still- this was probably for the best, for after all, she did have a job to do. Before long, partners had been exchanged, (it was the kind of dance in which this happened frequently,) and she was in the arms of another man, and then another, and then another. After a small while, she had lost interest in getting to know them all, and instead just allowed herself to be guided around the floor, for they all seemed to know what they were doing. Which was useful, as it meant she could focus more on observing her surroundings, and look out for the entrance of the man whom this whole celebration was for, and so whose presence was long overdue.

A change in the music meant that once again, she became a new man's partner, and she couldn't help feeling sorry for him as when he took her into his arms, she didn't even turn her head to regard him, but instead was concentrated on staring off to the side, at the entry doors, around which a few guards had suspiciously gathered. This didn't deter the man though, for still she felt herself being swept around with as much skill and care as any man before him.

"Now," he said, "this truly is a coincidence."

She froze- all thoughts of the fact that her target could be walking through the doors right now instantly were banished, as her eyes widened in disbelief. No. It couldn't be. Hesitantly her eyes moved to study the man with whom she danced, just in case she was mistaken.

No such luck.

Haytham Kenway smiled, as always, victoriously down at her. Her first instincts were to back away, as quickly as possible, though by realising that he had bought her, unbeknownst to her previously, into the centre of the dance floor, she noted that backing away from him would inevitably cause some sort of disturbance to the other dancers, and draw attention to herself. She couldn't let that happen, and he knew that; for he must have understood why she was here. Deciding that for now there was no easy method of escape, she was forced to face him. She did so irritably. "What the hell are you doing here?" She muttered quietly.

"Why wouldn't I be? The man you are presumably here to kill, you know has been aiding the Templar cause. Now he is holding a soiree in his own honour, to which he has invited every friend and business associate. Really, you should have expected me."

"Maybe I was expecting you." She lied, frustrated by the fact that he was right.

"Then why did you look so surprised?"

There was that smile again: the one that stated clearly that he knew he had won, and that there was nothing she could do about it. All at once it faded, and his face turned grave. "Now, I want you to listen very carefully…" She was frightened somewhat by the sudden malice in his tone as he continued, "I know why you are here. I can have you arrested and killed should I choose to- all I have to do is summon a guard and explain your intentions. My words would not be doubted, I assure you. Do you understand?"

She nodded her head nervously, knowing that what he said was true, and realising she was completely at his mercy.

"Good." He pressed on. "I do not want to have you killed, but unless you do exactly as I say, you will find my unwillingness to see to your demise change very quickly. In a moment, I will lead you to a room in which you will be locked until the evening is over, and until Fletcher's safety is reaffirmed. If you make one move, or say one word that I have not permitted- I promise you will not live to see the light of day again. Should you comply with all my demands, I will permit you to leave in the morning, unharmed."

By the time his speech was finished, he had danced her to the edge of the floor and moved her aside from the small crowds of people. He placed his hands on her shoulders tightly, forcing her to look deeply into his eyes. "I am offering you clemency for your intentions this evening, Miss. Lawrence. Do not abuse this kindness, or I will kill you. Am I clear?"

"Yes." She spoke quietly- a slight quiver to her voice. She had no doubt that he would act on all of his threats, should she not do as he say, and decided for her own sake to just stay quiet and do as he asks. She was terrified; if she made one wrong move, she was dead. That much was clear.

Having himself decided that he had frightened Kira into submission, Haytham released his hold on her shoulders, and moved one hand to her arm, gripping it tightly, whilst he placed his finger to his lips with his spare hand. "Not a word, you hear?"

He received an obedient nod in reply, and, satisfied, began to weave his way through the masses of people, guiding her along by the arm. All around her, Kira watched as people danced and indulged in various other festivities- all of whom were oblivious to the fact she had effectively been taken prisoner. She longed to cry out, to get someone's attention in the hope that they would help- but that would be a stupid mistake; she'd probably be run through by Haytham's hidden blade before she even begun to open her mouth. With this in mind, she kept her head down and her mouth firmly shut.

Before long, Haytham had pulled her away from the buzz of the ballroom, and down an elegantly decorated corridor, where on the walls hung portraits of various different gentlemen and ladies, all of which bared witness to her situation and were unable to help. They were paintings, of course, but she couldn't help feeling their eyes on her-as if they were watching her peril. It filled her with a sense of unease… She realised that Haytham had stopped at where the hallway turned, and had twisted to face her. "There are two guards- act as if nothing is amiss, and only speak if you are directly addressed by them. If you are, choose your words _very_ carefully."

He let go of her arm, and muttered for her to follow closely behind him. Straightening, he turned the corner of the corridor, with her at his side. The guards noticed them at once, and stood to attention at Haytham's approach. Kira wondered why there would be guards located in such an area- but then she supposed Fletcher couldn't be too careful. Having guards deployed in certain places would mean he could keep eyes on everyone's activities.

"Sir?" One of the guards addressed Haytham as he and Kira drew to a halt in front of them.

"I'm just going to have, well, a little chat with Miss. Lawrence here, if you know what I mean." Haytham replied coolly, casting a look over her as he said her name, before giving a confident smile to the guard. The man gave a knowing smile back, before allowing his eyes to wander down Kira's body, obviously lost in _certain_ thoughts.

Haytham gave a short cough, catching the guard's attention again. The man smirked. "Of course, sir. Go right ahead."

"Thank you." He turned to her, placing an arm behind her back in order to begin pushing her forwards. "Come along, dear." He said, grinning.

If she hadn't been in such a vulnerable position, she'd have liked to have struck the smile right off of his face for what he was suggesting to the guards. Swallowing her pride, she walked forwards slowly, catching the gaze of the second guard and seeing the lascivious look he gave her. She stared down at the floor, feeling her cheeks tinge red.

After having been led by Haytham out of earshot of the two guards, she noticed he still wore a triumphant smile on his face. "You're enjoying this, aren't you" She hissed, under her breath.

"Oh, assuredly." A few moments later, he spoke again. "Stop here."

They had come to stop outside of a carved wooden door, which Haytham now had lowered himself to slightly in order to unlock. He had his back turned on her, though she was certain he was listening for any movements she made- ready to spin around should she try something. She waited, patiently, as he unlocked the door, and held it open, gesturing her inside. Reluctantly, she entered the room with him following behind her. He pushed the door shut before addressing her for the last time.

"Now," he began, "This is where you will stay for tonight, and as long as you do stay here- as I said before- you will be free to leave in the morning. You can make yourself comfortable here until then. I warn you though- should you try to escape, you will not make it very far."

"I understand."

"Good."

He turned towards the door, and opened it slightly before she continued. "Mr. Kenway?"

"Yes?" He didn't look at her as she spoke, but continued to open the door whilst listening for her response.

"Benjamin Fletcher will die tonight, and there is nothing you can do to prevent it."

The Templar paused, gaze hardening slightly, though he refused to turn and face her. "No," he spat, "He will not."

With that, he left, pulling the door shut and locking it behind him.

* * *

Author notes:

Hi, everyone. Thanks for taking the time to read my story so far. Please review, follow, or favourite my story, as I appreciate all feedback, and I'd love to hear what you think. :)

I hope everyone had a great Christmas, and that you're all enjoying the New Year. I'm going to publish the next chapter soon, because I know it's taken a while to get this one done. Hopefully it was worth the wait!

* * *

Kittycat312


	13. Chapter 13 The Celebratory Ball Part 2

Chapter 13- The Celebratory Ball Part 2

"Damn it!" Kira exclaimed as she heard Haytham's footsteps fade away from the door. She wanted nothing more than to kick out at something, to shout and to scream in frustration- but she wouldn't allow him that pleasure. She had to stay calm and collected, if she were find any way to escape. Without doubt, when Haytham had been with her, she had been far too terrified to try and get away. But now, out of his presence and without him looming over her, making threats and issuing warnings, her mind was already set on getting out and killing Fletcher once and for all. If anything, the whole last few minutes had provided her with more determination to see to the man's demise. Before? His death was a job, and would prove advantageous to the Assassin's cause. Now? It was much more than that. It was personal, and her pride was at stake. She didn't know how she could face up to Achilles and Connor should she fail her task.

Pushing any thoughts of failure away, Kira began to study the room around her. It was Haytham's room, she gathered, after all, he had the key and it made sense for him to be staying in Fletcher's house as a guest during all of these celebrations. The room in which she stood was large, and seemed to be separated almost into two halves. The half furthest from her was the bedroom- in the centre of it against the far wall stood a grand canopy bed, draped with covers that looked like silk and that shone in the light provided by the various lamps in the room. The other half of the room, where she still stood, seemed to be a form of sitting room. Exasperated, she sunk down onto a settee, which was upholstered with a similar material to that used to cover the bed.

Kira moved her fingers to her forehead, massaging it softly with her fingertips as she tried to gather her thoughts. Moving her hand slightly, she observed that leading off of this room was another small room, with the door slightly ajar, so that by looking inside she could deduce it was a dressing room of some sorts- probably where clothes and other such things were stored. She doubted it would be of any use to her, and so her eyes continued to move around where she was presently situated.

As soon as Kira saw the window, she found sudden strength and stood at once. She did not know yet whether or not it could be opened, but it was undoubtedly one method of escape she had to assess. Moving over to it, her hands moved to the latch that held it shut. She tried to undo it, but soon she realised that the mechanism was somewhat broken: the latch was stuck and the window could not be opened. On closer observation, she noted that the latch looked worn- there were slight signs of rust appearing on it, and it seemed fragile. If the window was pushed with enough force, she reckoned, the latch could potentially break.

It was with this in mind that Kira crossed to the opposite side of the room from the window. The glass had looked thick, and was decorated with a criss-cross pattern with some sort of metal; iron, presumably. Taking a moment to pray the glass would not break, she prepared to run at it. Should it give way, she had to be ready to catch it before it opened far enough to strike the building- making noise she could not afford to create. Noting this, Kira lurched forward, and turned her shoulder to the window as she neared it, bracing for impact. Much to her surprise, as soon as she struck it she heard a loud crack as the latch broke free, and the window sprung open with all of her weight.

It took all of her balance to not fall into the open space before her. Instinctively her hand reached out to seize the window before it swung too far, and she used this hold to keep her from falling forwards. She had to admit she was afraid to look down. She was on the second-floor of the mansion, and it was a very, very long way to the ground below. Regaining her breath, she pulled herself back into the room, slumping to the floor with the sudden effort she had exercised. Her shoulder was wracked with pain, and she moved her other hand to it, caressing it slowly in an attempt to diminish the dull ache she felt within it. It did so slightly, and she lay back against the wall beneath the window in relief. The feel of the fresh air moving into the room above her head filled her with hope. She had made some progress, at least, but she had no time to dwell on this.

Placing her hands to the floor by her side, she raised herself, wincing as she put pressure on her injured arm. Glancing out of the window, she looked at the drop below. There was no chance she could drop down and survive the fall, so descending that way was entirely out of the question. Kira frowned with frustration as she observed the exterior wall beneath the window. She could see several places which could make good handholds, and footholds- it would be an easy enough climb down, were she not dressed in an evening gown. There was no chance of her being able to make the descent in her dress, it was far too rigid and long, and would inevitably get in the way. She cursed silently. She would have to think of something else.

…

It had been a half-hour at least when Kira had finished assessing the room for methods of escape. The window was still her best chance, but she noted that even should she be able to climb down safely, some guard would surely notice her if she were to try and enter the building to find Fletcher. Haytham would have placed several men on lookout. After examining the lock on the door, and realising to her despair that it could be picked easily enough with the right equipment, (equipment that she didn't have,) Kira turned to face the room again, her mind desperately seeking ideas. Her eyes fell on the dressing room door- the one room she had presumed she would not need- and suddenly an idea struck her.

Inspired with new hope, she rushed over to the door, practically throwing it open as she entered. If this was Haytham's temporary rooms, and he was staying for several days then he must have…

Yes! Her hands had found the handles of the wardrobe, and she had pulled open the doors, faced with a collection of Haytham's various attires. She couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it sooner. Within a few minutes she had found a shirt, breeches and an overcoat that she could hopefully arrange to fit her without looking too suspicious. In the room was a large mirror, which she undressed in front of, and soon she had outfitted herself in the clothes she had selected. Staring at herself in the mirror, she realised that the clothes were clearly too big, but by tucking the shirt into the breeches, she found that the unsuitability of the clothes to her figure were not too obtrusive.

Finally she found the tightest pair of shoes, although she had to layer several pairs of socks over her feet in order for them to fit without falling off as she walked. They felt odd- but they would do the job, and that's what mattered. Glancing at the mirror, she gazed at her long hair running down her back. She sighed- realising that to keep it at this length would certainly not be sensible. After all, she needed these clothes not only to descend the building safely, but also to act as a disguise when she re-entered the mansion. For what she had planned, she had to be a man, and a man certainly did not have hair as long as hers.

Reluctantly, she reached for a small knife which she had concealed previously under her dress for the party. She realised she could have used it against Haytham, but when he had been threatening her, opposing him was the last thing on her mind. She regretted not stabbing him now, though, as she seized her hair with one hand, and raised the knife to it with the other. Holding her breath, with one clean sweep of the knife she cut it cleanly, and let it drop to the floor as she studied herself in the mirror. She looked awfully odd, she thought, staring at herself. Haytham would have to pay for this- later, though. Now there was work to be done.

With her disguise almost fully intact, Kira searched a few drawers and found a scarlet coloured ribbon with which she tied her hair in a short ponytail- as was the fashion with men, she believed. Looking in the mirror once more to see how she looked, she frowned as she realised something was missing- she looked too feminine. She still wore a great deal of make-up, but she had already planned for this, as she knew there to be some fountains in the gardens at the rear of the house, where she could wash the make-up off. Still, glancing around the room, Kira spotted Haytham's hat on top of the wardrobe. It was his signature one, the navy-coloured tricorn. As soon as she saw it Kira couldn't resist taking it. Stretching on the tip of her toes she was able to reach it, and she soon had pulled it onto her head. There was a chance someone could recognise it, but she doubted it. Glancing at the mirror one last time, she knew it was the finishing touch she had needed.

…

Kira held her breath as she passed by two guards as she entered the ballroom once more. Thankfully, she had made her escape from Haytham's room easily enough, and a quick trip to the garden fountains saw to it that she had rid her face of all make-up. She held confidence in her disguise, but even after she moved away from the guards, she felt her heart beating fast. Heaven knew what would happen to her should she be discovered. She dreaded to think.

She mingled with several guests, firstly to test her disguise, and secondly to ascertain Fletcher's location. She spoke only briefly to people, and with each person she discovered that her disguise was working, and eventually she found a man who knew where Fletcher was.

"It is urgent that I see him," Kira had pressed in the most masculine voice she could muster when enquiring as to Fletcher's location.

"Last I saw him, he went that way," The man had replied, oblivious to her true intentions, and gesturing towards a door towards the end of the hall. After thanking him curtly, she moved through the masses of people towards the door, and upon approaching it realised two guards stood posted outside. She gathered that Fletcher was inside, and made the presumption that Haytham would be too- after all, she hadn't seen him elsewhere. Kira knew that whatever happened, she couldn't let Haytham see her. Even with the disguise, she had no doubt he would identify her and then, what? Kill her, probably.

With a plan formulated in her head, she approached one of the guards.

"Excuse me?" She said, her voice still masculine. "It is urgent that I see Master Kenway at once."

A guard stepped forwards. "He is busy. If you have something to say, say it to me."

She did her best to look worried about something. "It's just- it's hard to explain. You see, Master Kenway bid me disguise myself as one of the guests, in order to look out for that Assassin, discreetly."

"The woman? She has been dealt with, I assure you."

"Oh, I know," she carried on, surprised the guard did not question her story, but instead immediately presumed her to be one of them. "But I was patrolling the gardens, and I saw an Assassin."

"She escaped?" The guard's eyes had widened considerably, and they flashed with urgency.

"Not that I know of. It was another, you see. A young man, native looking- but he wore the robes of an Assassin." Kira hoped the tremor she added to her voice made her act seem more convincing.

The guards exchanged a quick glance, and all at once, one immediately opened the door and entered hurriedly. Realising that if her plan worked as she hoped, Haytham would soon be coming from the door, Kira moved a slight distance away so that she wouldn't be noticed if he did. The guard remaining at the door was taking no notice of her, he instead looked worriedly towards the other room, anticipating what would happen next.

Sure enough, soon the door burst open, and Haytham came through it quickly. The guard who had entered the room was close on his heels, and as he passed through the door Haytham turned abruptly to face both of them. "This door is not to be left unguarded, am I clear?" His voice was stern, and the two guards nodded obediently. With a warning glance at both of them Haytham made off towards the exit of the ballroom, his steps quick and urgent. Kira knew a sighting of his own son should surprise him, and sure enough, he seemed to take it very seriously, as she had lost sight of him within a few moments.

Regarding the guards, Kira noticed they looked agitated. They looked eager to be off hunting the Assassin, not standing around, guarding a room. Kira realised that to tempt them away from their duties would be easy. She approached them again; they both seemed to jump as she spoke.

"Perhaps it would be best if you followed him." She nodded towards the direction where Haytham had headed. "I can stay and guard the door- I've seen that Assassin and I'd be much more comfortable here than out searching for him."

The guards seemed to perk up- grateful for the fact their duties had been relieved. Thanking her, and after assuring each other that "we must assist Master Kenway," they departed swiftly after him. Kira couldn't believe her luck. In a way, she pitied those guards. After tonight, she didn't expect them to live long for their mistakes. That being said, the fact they did not question her motives at all was a mistake almost worth death, or at least, Haytham would think so.

After waiting a minute or so, Kira decided it was time to make her move. Quietly, she slipped into the room, closing the door close behind her. On hearing her entrance, Benjamin Fletcher looked up from a desk where he was writing in some sort of journal.

"Can I help you?" He asked, eyeing her suspiciously- although accepting that if the guards outside had let this man through, he must be trustworthy. Kira prayed he wouldn't see though her disguise.

"I bring word from Master Kenway." She said, her voice urgent once more. "It is most important that you leave here Master Fletcher, there is an Assassin, and Haytham fears he is here to kill you."

"He? Haytham told me it was a woman he was expecting to make an attempt on my life. He said he had seen to it that she wouldn't, though. You don't mean to tell me she has escaped?"

"No, sir." Kira moved further into the room, and made for the window that stood behind the politician. "There is another Assassin."

"So that is why he so quickly departed." He studied her as she moved to the window. She glanced around outside cautiously, before drawing the curtains, making it look as though she were trying to hide Fletcher from his would-be assassin. He continued. "Still, I trust that Haytham will see to this other Assassin, as he did the first. There is no need for me to go anywhere."

"But," She began to protest.

"No- I am quite safe here. I do not fear this Assassin, we must not fear them, or they have already won."

Kira turned from the window to face him as he began to continue writing in his book. This was an opportunity if Kira ever saw one. "Well said." She remarked, coolly. She stepped towards him, sliding her knife out silently from her inside pocket, and steadying it towards him. In one swift movement, she lurched forwards, pushing the knife deeply into his back. She withdrew it without a word as he gasped, and pocketed it as quietly as she had withdrawn it. Kira had made a fatal wound, and the dying man turned in his chair with his last strength to face her, observing her as she drew the curtains open, setting about opening the window. She knew she had to make a quick exit.

At once Fletcher understood. "You must be Kira Lawrence." He coughed, watching as her body froze somewhat and then as she turned to face him, her eyes burning with suspicion.

"What of it?" She replied, the masculine façade dropped, her voice returned to normal.

Much to Kira's surprise, he mustered a slight smile. "What Haytham said…" He paused to cough again, though his smile never faded. "He was right about you."

Kira felt anger burn up inside of her at the thought of that despicable man ever being right. She thought of how she had escaped, though he thought she could not.

"Haytham knows nothing about me." She spat. "He was wrong."

She pulled her legs over the window sill after opening the window, preparing for the short drop to the ground, as this window was much lower than the last she had left through. As she was about to jump, she heard a dry laugh from the man behind her.

"No." He spoke, amusedly almost. "He was not."

Kira spared one last glance at the politician curiously, before jumping down from the window. Even as she hurried silently from the manor's grounds, the man's voice still replayed in her head. What was Haytham right about? Nothing, she tried to persuade herself. It was probably a dying man's last desperate words attempting to evoke some sort of fear in her. But a chill ran down her spine as she recalled how he had said it. He hadn't been lying, and that worried her deeply.

* * *

Author notes:

Hi, everyone. Thanks for taking the time to read my story so far. Please review, follow, or favourite my story, as I appreciate all feedback, and I'd love to hear what you think. :)

I hope really hope this chapter was worth the very, very, very, very, very long wait. It was a much longer wait than I myself even anticipated. Anyway, hopefully you enjoyed it, and I will try to get the next one done soon. That being said, I always say that, and it unintentionally never happens. I will do my best though! :D

Kittycat312


	14. Chapter 14 A Brief Encounter

Chapter 14. A Brief Encounter

As soon as Kira entered through the manor's door, she slammed it quickly behind her, and stood with her back against it whilst she recovered her breath. She had practically ran the whole way back, only stopping to rest briefly at infrequent intervals- for she wanted to be as far from Fletcher's mansion as possible when Haytham discovered what she'd done. A shudder passed through her spine as she imagined him realising Fletcher was dead, and what plans he was probably already making to see to her demise.

It hadn't been a mistake- killing Benjamin Fletcher- but she regretted it already. She wouldn't be surprised if she was dead by the end of tomorrow. She reckoned the time to be early in the morning. Four o'clock, perhaps, maybe five. Though Achilles, it seemed, must have waited up for her, for she could feel the heat radiating from the lit fireplace, and could hear movements from within the sitting room.

"Kira, is that you?" Came Achilles' voice.

"Yes, it's me."

She approached the room, her skin already tingling from the warmth of the great house, as it made a pleasant change from the cool night air. She paused before entering, glancing down at her attire and realising that she was about to be explaining an awful lot. Quietly, she pushed through the door into the view of Achilles, and not only Achilles, as she noticed now that Connor was also present in the sitting room. She hadn't heard him before, and had presumed he was in asleep in bed. There was an awkward silence as the two men took in her new appearance, and after this, Achilles regarded her with an inquisitive stare.

"Were you… successful?" He asked. He sounded defeated almost, as if presuming by looking at her that something had gone wrong and that Fletcher was still alive.

"Yes." She said. "Benjamin Fletcher is dead."

Achilles breathed a sigh of relief, and he seemed to relax a little. Connor's spirits too, it seemed, brightened somewhat, for he no longer appeared confused by the fact she was dressed as a man, but instead now smiled amusedly at her.

"What happened?" He enquired, "And why are you…" The sentence trailed off, but she had a pretty good idea as to what he was asking about. Achilles leant forwards slightly, obviously interested in hearing what she had to say. Realising that a full account of the night's events would need to be recalled, Kira took a seat in front of them, grateful to rest her legs, for they ached painfully with the strain of the evening. The fire crackled near to her, the flames dancing as she leant back in the chair, turning her gaze to Connor and Achilles.

"I had better start from the beginning," she began, "I warn you, it is going to take a while to explain everything…"

…

It was now midday, and Kira sat back in Achilles' chair as she glanced over the letters and papers scattered across his desk. The sun shone in through the window of the study, casting a warm light across the room.

"Do you think you will be alright?" It was Achilles speaking, disturbing her from her thoughts. She'd had a good few hours' sleep, yet despite this he thought that to task her with any strenuous work would be unfair. Instead, he had asked that she see to his correspondence, and ensure that the ledger was up to date with all of the trades and exchanges across the homestead, whilst he and Connor travelled to Boston to see the various reactions to Fletcher's death.

"I will be fine, Achilles, I assure you." Kira had to admit, she was grateful for the fact that her mentor was allowing her to complete less demanding work, though she wished he wouldn't leave her alone so soon. No doubt Haytham was just waiting for them to leave, so he could stalk in and finish her once and for all. She spoke confidently to Achilles, though she felt she was more trying to convince herself than him.

"Well alright, then. It is best that we leave now, so we can return by nightfall." He paused, considerately. He himself was troubled by the fact that Haytham would most likely be seeking revenge for what she had done last night. "Make sure you are careful, Kira."

"You know that I will be."

He nodded curtly, before bidding her farewell and turning to leave. Reluctantly, he left the study, pulling the door closed behind him.

Kira listened to the click of the closing door with some relief. It felt safer somehow- like she was closed off from the world, and where nothing could harm her. It was a mere illusion, but was reassuring, all the same. Even more reassuring, though, was the flintlock pistol she drew from the top drawer of the desk. She lay it on the table before her, within easy reach. Just in case.

The room was so quiet, so peaceful. Achilles left merely moments ago, and already it felt like hours. She had work to do, but her mind was on a different matter entirely. She understood her mentor was not expecting her to complete much of what he had asked her to do, for he knew what she knew: that she was not there to work. Instead, she was waiting, waiting for the inevitable.

All of a sudden, there was a knock at the door. It frightened her half to death, and she cursed silently to herself for being so nervous. Glancing at the clock, it was only a minute or two after Achilles had left. This was not Haytham- knocking at the door for permission to enter. It was her mentor, or Connor, who had probably left something behind, or had forgotten to say something to her. She steadied her breath, so her voice wouldn't tremble as she spoke.

"Come in." She called, already standing to meet whichever of the two it was.

The person stepped in. It wasn't either of them, and she impressed herself with how quickly she snatched the pistol from the table and levelled it with Haytham Kenway's head.

"Not one move." She ordered, all the time questioning why she didn't just pull the trigger. She tried to sound authoritative, but her voice quivered. She had been caught off her guard, for some reason she couldn't fathom.

Haytham regarded her coolly, before sighing, almost impatiently. "Put the gun down."

"No." She held it even tighter -if that was possible- and was clutching it like it was her last life-line. Her quick response was rewarded with a stern glare from the man opposite her. She guessed 'no' wasn't a word he was accustomed to hearing. After watching her for a moment, and realising that she was not putting down the gun anytime soon, Haytham took a slight step forward.

"I said not to move." She remarked, glancing at his foot that had stepped forwards somewhat. If anything, this encouraged him to advance a little further.

"I know you do not trust me," he said, "I assure you that feeling is mutual. I ask that just this once, though, trust me when I say that I am not here to kill you."

She narrowed her eyes, sceptically. "How can I be sure of that?"

"Because, Miss Lawrence, if I wanted you dead you'd be dead already."

A short silence followed as she considered these words. It was true, painfully true. She had no doubt that had he wanted to, he could have killed her easily by now and avoided this confrontation. With a warning glance at him, she sat back down in the chair. She lowered the gun and then placed it on the desk. There was no point in keeping it- it seemed that even whilst she held it, he still had the upper hand. She moved her right arm onto the arm rest and leant her temple against her fingertips, lost in thought. Haytham watched this, relieved somewhat (though he wouldn't let it show) that she had put the gun down. After waiting a moment for a reply that never came, he approached the desk and leaned against it as he spoke again.

"Although I ought to kill you after what you did last night." He looked down at her, his brow furrowed with frustration. "I trusted you."

That was too much for her. She met his gaze immediately, fists clenched, eyes alight with anger. "You did not trust me!" She hissed. "You threatened me, there's a difference!" She had raised slightly from her chair, and Haytham waited for her to lower herself again after the sudden outburst, which admittedly had caught him by surprise.

"Well then," he said, "enlighten me. If I want something from you, how should I go about it?"

She gave this brief consideration. "You should ask." She narrowed her eyes at him again. "Nicely."

He raised his eyebrows, contemplating what she had said. "And had I asked you, nicely, to not kill Benjamin…?"

"I'd have killed him."

Haytham looked at her, somewhat despairingly, before looking down at his hands. Kira regarded him, and observed how he seemed to have lost himself to deep thoughts, like she so often did. She supposed they were similar, in that way. After a minute or two had passed, she spoke.

"Why are you here?"

He looked up at her, thoughts interrupted. "For several reasons- three, to be exact."

"And what is the first one?"

He scratched his head a little, thoughtfully. "Well," he said, "Firstly, I was wondering if you'd be so kind as to return my hat to me."

She blinked back at him, and for a moment admitted to herself that he did look rather odd without his signature tricorn. From her lack of movement, Haytham decided she needed further persuading. He leant forwards slightly, his eyes meeting hers with an amused sparkle. "I did ask nicely."

She didn't move, not at first, but then, with a sigh, she stood with the intention of fetching the hat, which she had stored in her wardrobe in the next room. She made for the door, giving a warning glace as she passed by him and told him to stay where he was. She could have taken the gun with her- but it didn't feel necessary. She was no longer afraid of what his intentions could be for being here. Most likely, still, was the possibility that he was here to kill her. For some reason, though, she doubted that.

Haytham watched as she moved past him, muttering words of compliance in response to her request for him to remain where he was. She vanished through the door- he hoped to fetch his hat- leaving him alone to cast his eyes over his surroundings. He regarded the flintlock pistol that had been left on the table, and took its being left there as a good sign. He spotted also a chair in the corner of the room, and took the time to draw it in front of the desk at which Kira had been sitting. He took a seat, and wondered about how the rest of this meeting would go. Should it go as he planned, he knew he needn't worry.

Soon Kira's soft footsteps approached from behind, and she passed by him once more, his hat in hand. After having taken a seat, she held it out to him steadily.

"Much obliged." He said, taking it from her, and placing it carefully on his head. If everything he had planned did go wrong now, he would find some consolation in the fact he had reclaimed it. "And the rest of the clothes you stole?"

"I'm keeping them. They proved useful once, and may do so again."

"I see."

Another few moments passed, as the two waited for the other to say something. It was Kira who spoke first.

"Why else are you here?" She asked, impatiently, as she crossed her arms and gazed at him questioningly.

"Well," he replied, deliberately taking his time with his answer to provoke her irritation further. "I thought I ought to congratulate you on your escape."

"Congratulate me?" She didn't sound convinced.

"Yes, it was skilfully done. I think it is fair to say I underestimated your abilities considerably. That being said, we make mistakes so that we can learn from them, you know."

"I suppose so." Kira's eyes had narrowed suspiciously. He was being kind to her, and that didn't make any sense, especially after what she had done. His intentions could not all be good towards her, she was sure. Still, he seemed determined to appear as a friend as opposed to a foe, for now he smiled across the desk at her good-naturedly.

"I do wish you hadn't been so discreet in your escape, though." He couldn't help glancing at her hair, which now sat just above the top of her shoulders. 'The guards that we passed in the corridor were most anxious to know where you had disappeared to- they keep asking what happened to you, and I'm running out of excuses. Heaven knows what they think of me."

Kira, despite her best efforts, couldn't help smiling as she imagined what the guards thought of Haytham after last night's events. He was right; they'd probably dreamed up some interesting possibilities to account for her disappearance. She looked at Haytham, the way he sat back comfortably in his chair, and beamed at her contentedly. He looked at ease, which made it occur to her that she should probably be wary. There had to be something about him being here that would have some dreadful consequence for herself. Almost nervously, she enquired:

"And what is the final reason for you being here?"

His smile faded, and he looked at her with neither malice nor kindness. His manner turned almost business like. "I was wondering when you would ask me that."

Quietly, he leant forwards in his chair, looking deeply into her eyes and ensuring he had her full attention. "You see, Miss Lawrence, last night you left me in a very difficult position. I said that I would kill you if you did anything against my will, and killing Benjamin was certainly contrasting my wishes. For a long time afterwards, I had every intention of punishing you for what you had done, but it occurred to me that your death was, and still is not, in my best interests. Instead, I have found a different solution."

She mustered the most confident tone she could. "And what is that?"

"You're going to help me."

Her eyes hardened, for that was something she had promised herself she would never do again. "Never." She stated, wondering where she had found this sudden energy, "I won't do it- even if it means you kill me instead- I will not help you."

"You would rather die than assist me?"

"Yes."

She had hoped he would be perturbed by her answer, but he wasn't. He smiled, knowingly.

"I thought so. But before you make that decision, I advise you listen to what it is I have to say first."

She hesitated, but decided there was no harm in hearing what it was that he wanted, for whatever it was, she would not do it. "Please, go ahead." She encouraged, somewhat sarcastically.

He continued. "You have been to Connor's village on several occasions, I presume?"

"Yes." She said, her words accompanied by a slight nod, as she froze at the sound of her friend's name.

"Good. And you are aware, I take it, of a precursor artefact- a crystal ball- that the clan mother is in possession of? I'd hazard to say you might have been shown it once or twice, no?"

"What does it matter if I have?"

"Because I need it." He said, his face grave. "As soon as it can be obtained."

"I understand." True enough, Kira knew of, and had seen, the strange artefact that had first encouraged Connor to seek out the Assassins and see to the downfall of the Templars. She even knew where it was, and could think of several ways she could go about getting it. Still, she wouldn't entertain Haytham with these plans. "But as I said before, I am not helping you, especially if doing so means betraying the trust of Connor and his people."

"You will do it." He had risen from his seat, and was now looking down at her commandingly. She didn't like the way he towered over her, and so she raised herself swiftly to her feet.

"No. I told you, I'd rather you killed me. Why on earth would I get the artefact for you?" She spat, angrily.

His voice raised as he continued to speak calmly yet authoritatively. "For one reason. If you steal the artefact, you will do it stealthily and quietly, leaving the village and its people undisturbed. If you do not, I will do it myself, though unlike you I will do it as effectively and as quickly as possible. I will take several men, and we will storm the village, take the artefact, and kill anyone who gets in our way."

She shrank back slightly in disbelief, and because of the malice that had worked its way into his voice. With only a few words, he was in command of the situation again. She did not doubt his words in the slightest, but all she could stammer was "You… you wouldn't."

"I would. I told you if you killed Benjamin there would be consequences. Either you betray Connor's people, or you stand back whilst we kill them, knowing that their deaths could be prevented."

She lowered herself into her seat, but still met his eyes almost pitifully. "You would kill them just for the sake of punishing me? All of them?"

"If I had to, you know very well I would. Fortunately, I will not have to kill any of them. It will not come to that, will it, Miss Lawrence?" It was more of a statement than a question.

She looked away- she couldn't meet his gaze anymore. "No." She said, defeated once again.

"I didn't think so. I will give you two days, and I expect you to bring it to me at The Green Dragon by then. Should you fail, we will retrieve it in the way I described. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good." He turned to leave, reached the door quietly, before glancing round at her one last time. She sat, slumped almost, in her chair, one hand pressed to her temple as she deliberated what she had just agreed to do. He had wanted to punish her, and had done so successfully, but for a moment, he admitted to himself that he felt sorry for her. He certainly wouldn't want to be in her position. Part of him almost wanted to apologise, but instead he said, almost in a way that tried to take the responsibility for what he'd done away from himself:

"I warned you, Miss Lawrence."

"I know you did." 

He left, though over the next two days, he would often reflect on the image of her sitting defeated at her desk, and wonder if he had taken his revenge a little too far.

* * *

Author notes:

Hi, everyone. Thanks for taking the time to read my story so far. Please review, follow, or favourite my story, as I appreciate all feedback, and I'd love to hear what you think. :)

Happy Easter for Sunday, everyone! I hope you all enjoy the holidays. The next chapter will probably be out sometime after the holidays, I think. It depends how busy things are. Hopefully, it'll be around then, though.

Kittycat312


	15. Chapter 15 The Lesser Evil

Chapter 15. The Lesser Evil

The native Indian man trod steadily forward through the undergrowth of the forest that surrounded his village. The night was still, almost silent, except for the low whistle of the wind as it flowed through the trees, and the discreet movements and calls of the forest's wildlife. The man perceptively glanced about between the foliage, his keen eyes darting from one small movement to another in order to assess the sources of each disturbance. On reassuring himself that everything was as it should be, he moved on, certain that there was nothing in the forest presenting an immediate danger to the village.

The sound of a whistle from a little way behind him caused him to stop, and he turned swiftly, his eyes and ears alert for the source of the sound. He lowered himself slightly, before cautiously approaching where he had heard the noise. Peering through the dark, he could see nothing that was out of place. The forest was quiet, and for a small while, the man pondered over whether or not he was hearing things. Still, he had to ascertain that there was no danger, and with this in mind, he stalked silently forwards- further into the denser undergrowth of the forest. After a short investigation, he determined that there was nothing posing any threat, and he straightened to his full height, intent on continuing his guard elsewhere.

It was then that he heard a movement behind him once more. This time, however, he was unable to turn swiftly enough to face it, for before he could turn he felt a sharp pain sear through his head like a wildfire, and he crumpled to his knees, his vision rapidly fading to nothingness as he lost consciousness.

Kira winced and muttered a silent apology as she lowered the village guard to the ground, ensuring he was concealed enough by the vegetation to not be seen by any passers-by. She sheathed her dagger, having used its hilt to strike the man, and straightened, her eyes turning towards the village. She didn't like this- approaching Connor's village as if its people were the enemy- it didn't seem right. She had friends here, and the people had come to trust her as if she were one of their own, for Connor had brought her to them often in order for her to learn about their culture and their way of life. Everything she was doing now was betraying them. Betraying that unyielding faith they put in her from the moment Connor introduced her to them. But then, wasn't this for the best? Did she have any other choice? There was her stealing the artefact, or there was Haytham stealing it- and she had no doubt that _his_ way would cause dozens of casualties. This was the lesser of two evils. At least this way, no one in the village would be harmed.

Her eyes moved down to the unconscious guard. Well, some would have to be temporarily harmed. There was no avoiding that.

Stalking forwards, Kira neared the edge of the forest and looked out across the clearing that lay around the village. There was a surprising lack of guards, but then, if Connor's village had one flaw, it was that they were so absorbed in their own world that they believed themselves to be free from the problems of others. They were naïve, they didn't expect an attack anytime soon, and Connor himself had told her that his people were afraid to take action against any threats posed by outsiders. Still, despite this being a flaw, it was one that Kira was nevertheless grateful for as it made her task a whole lot easier. It only was a few minutes before Kira spotted an opportunity to make a break towards the village walls, as the guards' attention was temporarily drawn elsewhere. She darted across the clearing, aware of how easily she would be spotted if any of the guards looked her way, despite the blanket of dark that lay across the land. This spurred her on to reach the walls faster, and when she neared them she halted and crouched at their base. She was fairly certain the guards would be unable to see her here, but she remained vigilant. After taking a few moments to survey her surroundings, she found an opening in the walls and slipped silently through, careful not to disturb anything with her movements.

She was in. For some strange reason, being there made her feel even more apprehensive about her task. Perhaps it was the sight of a few of the natives walking around, several of whom she recognised. She felt a pang of guilt strike her as she was reminded of who she was stealing from. It felt like a harsh kick to her stomach, the reality of what she was doing suddenly occurring to her with more strength than before. Still, she had to be strong. Despite everything, she was doing this for their own good, and she had to repeat that constantly in her mind as she began to weave her way through the village. She knew where the crystal ball was kept, and with this knowledge, she was able to locate the hut relatively easily.

Crouching in the darkest of shadows, the night's darkness itself still providing her with most of her cover, Kira approached the hut quietly. Her footsteps were light and her breath was shallow- though she thought the sound of her heart beating hard in her chest would surely give her position away. She was frightened. Not of being caught, she was far too careful for that, but of succeeding instead. Part of her didn't want to succeed, but another part of her reminded her that she needed to. Thankfully, Kira could not see the Clan Mother in the hut. She thanked the heavens for this, for not only would her presence have made obtaining the artefact more difficult, but it would have also have augmented Kira's guilt.

Kira surprised herself with how easily she was able to slip, undetected into the hut. There was simply no one around to guard the artefact, a further indication of how little the village and its people believed anyone would attack them in any way. Before long, Kira found the artefact, and with a quick glance about her to determine she was not under threat, she slid her hands around the ball, raising it from the ground. She had seen it before, and yet it never ceased to amaze her with its beauty. The way it seemed to shine like a diamond, despite the distinct lack of light in the hut. The way that it seemed to radiate a sort of invisible power, that although you could not see it, you knew to be there. It was truly beautiful, and Kira could have stared at it for hours had her position not been so precarious. She had bought along a satchel, which she placed the artefact in cautiously, careful to ensure it would not be damaged in any way.

Straightening, she prepared to leave the village at once, as she was determined to get the artefact to Haytham before daybreak. It was around eight o'clock, and despite the fact that Kira had until the following evening to give it to him, she didn't want it in her possession for that long. She wanted to be rid of it, as soon as possible. Once she had obtained a horse, Kira was sure she could make it to Boston and to The Green Dragon in good time, and with this in mind, and after casting an apologetic glance around the village, she set off.

…

As Kira entered The Green Dragon Inn she felt her heart beat faster than she imagined possible. She didn't like it here, it posed so many threats and she had to remain constantly on her guard. Glancing up the stairs, Kira briefly caught a glimpse of William Johnson, seated at a table and bent over some research, presumably. She could not see Haytham, and she hoped above all that he would be elsewhere, as she feared going up those stairs and confronting all the Templars at once- she wanted to avoid it if possible. Instead of going to ask William or any other Templar, she approached a woman who was handing out drinks.

"Excuse me, you do not happen to know where Mr. Kenway is, do you?" She enquired.

The woman turned to face her. She was a short, portly woman with a kind face. She smiled warmly as she replied: "Master Kenway? Why, he's just up the stairs, dearie."

Kira's heart sunk, yet she managed to muster a grateful smile. "Oh… thank you."

Turning away and sighing, Kira looked at the door longingly before forcing herself to move towards the stairs. She hesitated as she reached them, but reminded herself that she would rather do this sooner and get it over with now than later. Quietly, she made her way up each step and soon reached the top. Glancing around, she could see two people: William Johnson, who had not moved from his previous position and who seemed too absorbed in his work to notice her approach, and Charles Lee, who on the contrary had noticed her at once, and glared at her from across the room. Surprisingly, he made no move towards her and instead seemed to mutter something under his breath before turning his attention to a flintlock pistol which he appeared to be in the process of cleaning.

Kira stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do. William and Charles seemed to be the only two there, and presumably, the others would be asleep; it was still an early hour of the morning. After glancing several times between the Templars, Kira decided that William Johnson would be the safer of the two. Quietly, she approached him.

"Mr. Johnson?" She asked, her voice quiet. She noticed that Charles looked up from his gun at the sound of her voice, yet he still made no move to approach her. William Johnson sat up and turned in his chair to face her, his eyes looking up at her with a hint of annoyance at being disturbed.

"Miss…" He hesitated in thought, before remembering. "Lawrence. Can I help you?"

"Yes, I need to see Mr. Kenway. Where is he?" She shifted uncomfortably on her feet.

"You have the artefact?"

"Yes."

"Then you may give it to me, I shall see to it that Haytham knows you have received it for us." He outstretched his hand towards her.

She backed away slightly. "No, I… I need to give it to him myself. I need to hear from him that he will uphold his side of our agreement."

William withdrew his hand and pondered over her words for a moment. "Very well… I will-"

"You have reason to doubt the Grand Master's words?"

Kira almost jumped out of her skin at the sound of Charles' voice coming from behind her. She spun to face him- she had been so focused on William that he had been able to approach her from behind without her noticing. Having composed herself, her gaze hardened as she met his. "Of course I do."

"How do we know that you are telling the truth? Why should we trust you?" Charles questioned, his eyes bearing into hers. He seemed agitated, angry, and she couldn't understand why. She then remembered that she had tried to kill him several months ago, and realised that may have had something to do with his hostility towards her.

"I do not care if you trust me or not. I have your precious artefact, that's all that was required of me." She spat.

"How can we be sure that this isn't some sort of trick? That you are not here to kill us?" He drew closer to her, causing her to back away slightly. There was danger in his eyes, and she suddenly realised that his tone was becoming increasingly violent.

Still, she stood her ground, glaring back at him. "You don't. Why, are you afraid I could kill you?"

His face was an image of rage. "I am not afraid of you, Assassin." He hissed, stepping forward to enforce his point.

"Charles…" William tried to interject, but his voice went unnoticed by his fellow Templar. The situation was rapidly getting out of hand.

"You should be," Kira growled at Charles, all previous fears dismissed as she too stepped towards him.

"Just try it." He dared, "Take one step closer and I'll put you in your place."

To Kira, that wasn't a threat; that was a challenge, and one she was more than willing to accept. She took that one step closer, her hand reaching for her dagger, as his began to reach for his sword.

"Charles!" If William's voice didn't affect Charles, Haytham Kenway's certainly did, for all at once the man before Kira froze. He sighed as Haytham approached from the doorway of another room, and he sheathed his sword reluctantly. "What the hell do you think you are doing?" The Grand Master asked, his voice full of authority.

Charles growled, impatiently. "She is an Assassin."

"I know that. But she has what we need." He turned to address her. "Do you not?"

She nodded hurriedly in response, and Haytham turned to look at her and Charles, still seeing the anger in both their eyes and noting that Charles' hands were curled into tight fists. He sighed, visibly annoyed by what had occurred, and after casting a warning glance at Charles, he turned to face Kira once more. "Miss Lawrence, come this way, please."

He began to head towards the door from which he'd came, and reluctantly, Kira followed. However, as she passed Charles, she felt his hand grip her arm tightly and he pulled her towards him, lowering his mouth to her ear as he muttered: "I'm not finished with you, Assassin."

She tugged her arm away from him. "Nor I you, Templar." Her voice was low. "Next time your Grand Master will not be able to save you."

With those words being said, and with Charles visibly seething, she stepped away somewhat victoriously, as she followed Haytham into the room. On entering, she pushed the door closed behind her. She was glad to be away from Charles and William, out there, she was vulnerable. In here? Less so. Or at least, she hoped. Haytham stood, facing her, watching her carefully as she approached him.

"I am sorry for the way Charles behaved." He said, though he didn't sound entirely apologetic.

"Do not be." She assured, before continuing in a lower voice, almost to herself, "I only wish you had not intervened. I'd have liked to have taught that conceited bastard a lesson."

"Indeed." He did his best to look unimpressed with her comment, but he couldn't hide a slight look of amusement at what she had said. After a small while of neither of them saying anything, he continued, in an almost business-like manner. "So, do you have what I asked for?"

"I do." She reached into the satchel and withdrew the crystal ball, taking a moment to admire its beauty before holding it out to him. His eyes visibly lit in awe as she drew it out, and she remembered that this would be the first time he had seen it. He approached her, carefully taking it with both his hands, holding it as if it were the most precious thing in all the world. She couldn't help smiling at his reaction to it. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yes." He tore his eyes from it to look back at her. "I would thank you for this, had I not forced you to retrieve it."

She didn't like how he exaggerated the word 'forced' when he spoke. She had been forced, it was true, but she didn't want to admit to that. She shook her head, pushing this from her thoughts. "Mr. Kenway?" She had lost his attention to the artefact again, and she waited for the sound of her voice to regain his focus.

"Hmm…?" He placed the orb on his desk safely, before turning back to her.

"I have upheld my side of our agreement. You must promise me that no one in Connor's village will come to harm."

"Of course, I gave you my word, did I not?"

"And also… Please understand, this artefact, it is important to Connor's people. They will be devastated when they realise it is missing. I know we did not agree to this, but if you should find no more need for it, I would be eternally grateful if you would return it to them."

"If we truly have no further need for it, yes, I shall return it. I cannot promise this will be so, however."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "I understand. Now, if you do not mind, I shall take my leave."

"Just a moment, Miss Lawrence."

She froze somewhat, for the final moments of conversation with him usually led to her being threatened or forced to do something she shouldn't. Reluctantly, she faced him. "Yes?"

"What you have done in the last few hours… I hope it has been adequate punishment for acting against my orders."

"It has."

"And I hope it has persuaded you to not act against me again."

Ah, so that was what this was all about, Kira thought. Establishing authority. Despite everything that had occurred, that was something she would not stand for. "I do not mean to disappoint you, Mr Kenway, but on the contrary, I will act against you until the day I die."

"Speak like that, and that day may come sooner than you expect." He threatened.

"Perhaps it will. That does not change my resolve, though." She made her way to the door. "Mr. Kenway." She said as she nodded farewell.

"Miss Lawrence." He returned her gesture.

On leaving The Green Dragon, Kira made sure to cast a threatening look at Charles and thank William for his help. As she walked out, she thought about what she had done. True enough, there was no doubt in her mind that stealing from Connor's village had been wrong, but at the same time, they were safe, and that was all that mattered.

…

It wasn't until early the following evening that Kira returned herself to Achilles and Connor at the manor, for she had spent several hours at home beforehand resting herself after the night's activities. When she did arrive, she was fortunate to find that dinner had been prepared, and she sat down to it with Achilles at around 7 o'clock, eager to finally talk to him alone, for Connor had been called to his village urgently, for reasons she could accurately surmise. Despite her rest, Kira still felt drained from the previous night, and the hot meal of meat and potatoes laid out before her looked more tempting than usual. It looked and smelt delicious, and she wasted no time in eating it as Achilles talked to her about the progress of Connor's training, and also of how he wanted her to be present in two days' time for some renovations they were carrying out on the manor, her help with which would be appreciated.

She smiled, nodded in agreement every now and then, offered a few words to the conversation, which became increasingly difficult as her mind began to wander to what she wanted to ask Achilles about. Truth be told, the matter of Shay and his survival had pressed greatly on her thoughts ever since she had discovered it, and after a small while, she mustered the courage to put the matter before her mentor, in hopes that he would help her find answers. She had even thought of a way to explain how she discovered Shay's survival without giving away what she had been up to, and with this in mind, she leant forwards on the table and addressed him honestly.

"Achilles, there has been something I've needed to tell you for a while now, and I was hoping that I could discuss it with you."

He paused, looked up from his dinner curiously and yet smiled warmly. "Of course, go right ahead. If something is the matter, I should like to know of it."

"Oh, nothing is the matter, I'm just…" She returned his smile whilst pondering over how to put across her questions. "I need to make something clear in my mind, and only you can help me."

"I shall certainly do my best."

"Well, you see…" She broke off again, apprehensive of what would happen once he knew what she was trying to say. She had to tell him, though. She had to know the truth. Taking a deep breath, she continued, "it's, it's about-"

"Achilles!" Connor practically crashed into the dinner table with the momentum of his approach, his eyes wide and his breath ragged with exhaustion.

Both Kira and Achilles stood at once; even Kira was taken by surprise by his sudden entrance, despite knowing what probably had him so disturbed. Both she and her mentor exchanged a worried glance; she made sure to look as uncertain as he was as to what this was all about. Meanwhile, Connor steadied himself and recovered his breath, taking a seat at the table whilst doing so.

"Connor, what is wrong?" Kira was the first to speak, and he looked upon both her and Achilles with a desperate gaze.

"It is the precursor artefact- the crystal ball- from my village. It has been stolen."

"Stolen?" The same response was made by Kira and Achilles at the same time.

Connor's gaze hardened and his hands formed clenched fists as he continued. "Yes, and I have no doubt in my mind as to who took it."

All three remained silent as they came to the same conclusions. "The Templars," Kira stated, simply. "Achilles, what can we do? The artefact has tremendous power, if the Templars know that then they could-"

"I know, I know…" Achilles seated himself, pressing his fingers to his forehead whilst sighing exasperatedly. "There is little we can do. If they have it, it will be far too heavily guarded for us to take it back. We can only hope they prove unable to realise its potential."

"Hope? Achilles, there must be something more we can do." It was Connor who spoke, desperate to see the artefact returned to his people.

"No, Connor, he is right. However, I can see no harm in perhaps sending a few scouts to assess the strength of the Templar's security around the artefact, should they have it. At least then we can ascertain what more could be done."

"That is a wise suggestion, and one I shall see carried out by tomorrow morning. For now, Connor, there is nothing more to be done."

Frustrated, but knowing these words to be true, Connor nodded quietly. "I understand."

For a small while the three all sat, the room silent, whilst each explored their own thoughts and feelings on what had occurred. After what felt like a lifetime, Achilles frowned and cast his eyes towards Kira, who was finishing her meal pensively. "Now, Kira, what was it you were saying before Connor arrived?"

Kira felt her heart physically stop for a moment as she remembered what she had been asking. Her eyes widened slightly, and she looked towards Connor, wishing she could ask him to leave but realising that was far from necessary. She supposed it mattered not if he heard what she was about to say, and reluctantly, she faced Achilles who was smiling encouragingly. "I… I was going to ask you about Shay."

Achilles' smile widened marginally, which was the opposite of what she expected. He laughed a little. "Come now, Kira, we have discussed this time and time again. There is nothing more to be said-"

Her face was grave. "I know he is alive, Achilles."

The seriousness with which she spoke made clear it was no joke nor lie. All traces of laughter or a smile faded as Achilles' features hardened. He hesitated, before leaning forwards slightly. He looked as if he were about to speak, but then he withdrew, remaining silent.

Kira continued. "And I know he is a Templar."

Her mentor's breath caught at hearing her words, and he spent time gazing at some empty space on the table, seeming as though he would say nothing. A minute or two later, he spoke, his eyes refusing to meet hers. "How?" It was all he could manage to say.

"The man that Haytham met at the docks? The one I did not recognise?" She gazed at him, and he finally looked back at her. "It was him." She said, unwaveringly.

"I see." Again, a silence followed in which neither were sure of what to say, and Connor, unfamiliar with any man named Shay and quite clueless as to what was being discussed, looked on inquisitively.

If anything, Achilles' silence did nothing but provoke Kira. She wanted answers, she wanted them to come flowing out of him like a waterfall after what she had said, but they didn't. All there was instead was this insufferable silence, and all of a sudden Kira felt anger rise up within her. She wanted answers, needed answers, and it became apparent she would have to demand them. Her emotions got the better of her, and all of her thoughts came tumbling out of her mouth at once. "You lied to me, Achilles! All of these years you let me suffer, let me think he was dead. You knew how I cared for him. You knew how I felt about him, and yet you still lied. Didn't you care? Did you not for one minute think to yourself how hurt I was by what happened? Think to tell me the truth so I could be relieved of my suffering? No! You did nothing. You lied to me again and again, and you only did it for yourself."

He listened to all of her accusations acceptingly, until the last one, when he raised himself, and his voice, slightly. "It was not, it was for your own good."

"How? How was it for me, Achilles? How did believing for years that my greatest friend was dead benefit _me_ in any way?"

"If I had told you the truth, you would not have been so fond of him."

"Why, because he was a bloody Templar? I wouldn't have cared, Achilles." She caught her breath, finding that tears were pricking at her eyes from a mixture of sadness and frustration. "I still don't care."

Connor's eyes were wide with shock on hearing this and the rest of her outburst. Kira was the most devoted Assassin he'd known, and he found it hard to believe she could forgive a Templar his actions. He decided that later, at a better time, he would perhaps ask her or Achilles to explain who this Shay was, and why he was so important. For now, however, he could only watch as Achilles and Kira became more frustrated with each other.

"Don't you see?" Achilles was almost shouting. "He blinds your judgement. He is a Templar, he betrayed us, killed our people, and yet you forgive him this? You are a better Assassin without him, Kira, you always were."

"What does it matter how good an Assassin I am? What about me, Achilles? Me, myself, not as an Assassin. Do you not realise the hell you put me through when you told me he was dead? And further still, refused to tell me how he died? Why he died?"

"He betrayed us Kira."

"I don't care!"

All of a sudden there was a loud knock at the door, catching the attention of all three of the Assassins. Both Achilles and Kira were now standing tall, their breathing heavy with emotion and their faces red with anger. Connor rose to address whomever it was as the knock was repeated, but desperate to get away from the situation, Kira moved to the door, hissing, "I'll answer it," as she moved past him. Connor stepped out of her path, not wanting to get in her way, turning to Achilles with a questioning look as she went out. Whatever had just occurred was serious, and he was keen to understand what it was all about.

Kira closed the door to the dining room behind her before heading towards the door, taking a moment to compose herself. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and she tried to recover her thoughts after what had just happened. She loved Achilles like he was her father, and looked up to him greatly, but for once she could see no justifications for his actions. She had never felt so angry with him, and also, never felt so betrayed. Kira reached the door, the handle cold against her warm hand as she twisted it and pulled the door open to address whoever was outside. Looking up, her eyes widened with what, relief? Surprise? Fear? Certainly there was fear.

"Shay?" She stammered.

Shay smiled down at her playfully as always, though his expression changed as he noticed her obvious state of distress. "Kira… what is it? What's wrong?"

Her initial thought was to ask him why he was there, but she ignored this as she continued, suddenly so unsure of what to do, "Oh Shay, it's just…"

All at once she was interrupted as she felt his arms move around her in a comforting embrace, which he did almost instinctively and without thought, surprising himself with how quickly he supported her as he would have done all those years ago, as if not a single thing had changed. She sighed, weaving her arms around him and nestling her face against the familiar warmth of his chest, whilst he offered words of reassurance and comfort. Kira had never been one to truly surrender to emotions of weakness, but as she clung to him tightly she felt tears begin to trickle down her cheeks, and soon she was sobbing bitterly into his coat. She was so unsure of what to do- so uncertain as to what the future held. She took a minute or so to regain her composure, reminding herself that Achilles or Connor could appear any second, which would only make things worse. Shay released his hold on her a little as he realised this, leaning back slightly to get a better look at her face. "Are you alright?" He asked, a hand moving to her cheek, his thumb feathering over it as he brushed away a tear.

She offered a slight smile. "I'm fine, really… It's difficult to explain. But Shay, why are you here? If Achilles sees you…"

He smiled back at her and answered as she moved out of his embrace: "I needed to talk to you. Something has happened, and it's important that I tell you."

"What is it?"

He was about to answer when another voice sounded from behind her and she felt herself freeze into place. Shay's eyes moved to study whoever it was, though she didn't need to turn to know the man who spoke. "Kira?" It was Connor, obviously coming to see what was taking so long. He sounded suspicious, unsure of what to think.

"Connor, I-"

"Who is this?" He moved closer to her so that he could get a better look at the man standing in the doorway. Kira worried that he might recognise Shay from the night they observed his meeting with Haytham and William, but it had been dark that night, and Connor clearly wasn't sure of the man's identity now. Kira noted with a silent sigh of relief that Shay had moved his hand into a position where his ring was not visible, and she saw at least some hope that perhaps Shay could leave without Connor realising his identity.

Shay, on the other hand, seemed to have different ideas, and either was not aware of what trouble he would cause Kira, or much more likely, disregarded this, for on realising that she had gone silent, he stepped forwards a little, offering his hand out to Connor and at the same time announcing: "Shay Cormac."

* * *

Author notes:

Hi, everyone. Thanks for taking the time to read my story so far. Please review, follow, or favourite my story, as I appreciate all feedback, and I'd love to hear what you think. :)

I am _so_ sorry it has been so long since I last posted a chapter, but exam season sort of snuck up on me, and I haven't had time to write. I've made this chapter longer to hopefully make up for it, I hope it was worth the wait.

I will get the next one out extra soon, now I've got a lot more spare time on my hands, and especially because I'm looking forward to writing the next chapter. Thanks again!

 _Kittycat312_


	16. Chapter 16 A Step Too Far

Chapter 16. A Step Too Far

"Shay…" Kira muttered, almost in disbelief at what he had said. All hope of her escaping the situation without causing too much trouble had vanished, and she shook her head slightly, completely and utterly lost for words.

Shay's hand hovered in the air for a while as he gazed at Connor expectantly whilst waiting for the younger man to accept his gesture. It soon became clear that Connor would do no such thing, and so he lowered his hand, muttering something under his breath as he did so. Connor's eyes were wide, as he, like Kira, remained silent whilst he pieced together the puzzle of what was occurring. He glanced at her, and then back at Shay, still uncertain of who the man exactly was. He had reasoned that this was, without doubt, the man who was the subject of Kira's argument with Achilles, and so he stared at the Templar inquisitively. "You're…" He began, but his words drifted into nothingness as he began to turn so he could fetch his mentor.

Kira realised that that was something she could not let happen, and in a moment of strength she found both her voice and composure, and she instinctively reached out and seized his arm, preventing him from turning any further. "Connor, wait, please, I can explain."

He faced her again, his eyes dark, and bearing a mixture of anger and confusion. "Who is this?" He demanded powerfully, wanting much more than the stranger's name.

She lowered her head, and Shay, realising the two Assassins needed space, told Kira he would wait for her outside, though not before laying a hand on her shoulder supportively. Kira waited for him to leave, before facing Connor again. "Shay is… he is an old friend."

"A Templar?" He hissed, his eyes bearing into hers with great intensity.

"No. Well yes, he is. But," Her hands moved about in the air as she tried to find the words she needed. "He was not always a Templar. He was one of us, an Assassin."

"Then why-"

"I do not know why he left. I know as much about that as you do, but for heaven's sake, Connor, I need to find out."

"If you would only ask Achilles,"

"Achilles will not tell me. He will never tell me what happened- he's hiding something and I want to know what. I need to know what."

Connor shook his head, his initial anger dispelling and his natural curiosity taking over. "Achilles would never lie to us, he would never hide something."

"He let me think that Shay was dead for eighteen years, Connor. He told me he was dead. You just saw him for yourself, so you know that to be a lie."

"But why?"

"That is what I need to find out." Kira's voice softened and she pleaded with him gently. "Please, Connor, I am as curious about this as you are. I know Achilles; you're right, he wouldn't lie, but in this case, he has. Can you not understand that something isn't right? Shay will tell me the truth, please, I have to go with him so that I can understand what."

Connor visibly hesitated, his mind torn by his hatred for the Templars, and yet also by his understanding that Kira was right, and that for some reason he could not fathom, Achilles had lied. It was this that settled his mind on what he would do, and yet he was still swamped with uncertainty. "How can you be sure that the Templar will not lie? He is dangerous."

"Shay is not dangerous, and he would never lie to me, not in this instance. I am certain he wants me to know the truth as much as I myself want to know."

The younger Assassin shifted uncomfortably, these words offering little reassurance. "Kira, I trust you, I trust your judgement. If you think this is for the best, then I will go along with it, but let me make this clear," He straightened slightly and leant towards her a little intimidatingly, and for a moment, Kira could see the same look in his eyes as Haytham had when he threatened her. It sent a small shiver down her spine as she was reminded of this when he spoke. "This is the only exception I will make. I will not tell Achilles he was here, but if I see him here again, I will kill him."

"So will I." Kira thought to herself, irritated by how much Shay had inconvenienced her, and by how much trouble he had almost caused her. She breathed a sigh of relief, offering a slight smile to her fellow Assassin. "Thank you, Connor." She voiced, aloud this time, "This is for the best, I promise."

"It better be." He watched as Kira reached for her coat and began to pull it on. At this moment he thought he'd better return to Achilles before the old man came to investigate what was taking so long. "Kira, be careful, please." He added, a touch of warmth in his voice that brought another smile to her face.

"I will, Connor, try not to worry." By now she had secured her coat around herself and was ready to leave. She placed a hand on his shoulder reassuringly, the joy in her eyes contrasting the discomfort in his. "I shall probably be a while, so I'll bid you goodnight."

"Goodnight Kira."

She left, and closing the door, Connor returned himself to Achilles who was still seated in the dining room, looking frustrated and at the same time, lost in thought. Connor noted that Achilles' meal had not been touched since he had left him.

"Who was it, Connor, and where is Kira?" Achilles asked, his voice a little unsteady.

"Someone new to the homestead- they were having some trouble, so Kira has gone to assist them. She said she needed to get away for a while." Connor lied.

…

"So, how did things go with your young friend?" Shay's eyes sparkled with amusement at Kira's obvious frustration with him as she approached, though the look she gave him suggested that all was well. He had taken to leaning against a tree for the last few minutes, but as she drew nearer, he straightened to meet her.

"You bastard." She said, giving him a shove, but there was a certain playfulness in her tone. "I am glad that the possibility of me being exiled from the Brotherhood is so amusing."

"Worse things could happen." He laughed, giving her a light push backwards in return. She couldn't help smiling at him as he grinned at her in such a child-like manner. She missed being with him; when she had first come to America, he was the one Assassin who she could have fun and be herself with, as opposed to most of the others, who expected her to be her most mature and sensible self at all times. More than anything she missed the way that things used to be, what with the Assassins prospering, and with America being in a less war-torn state. She pushed these thoughts aside as she focused on her current situation.

"In all seriousness, though, Shay, why are you here? What is it that you wanted to say?"

His face hardened a little as he was reminded of what he had come for. "I am afraid you will not like what I have to say."

She too became serious, "What is it?"

"It is the artefact, the crystal ball. It was stolen."

"Stolen? How could it have been stolen? I only gave it to Haytham early this morning." Her voice was urgent, and there was a hint of worry residing within it, but she was more intrigued as to how this could have happened.

"It is hard to explain, but yes, it was taken from us."

Despite everything, Kira couldn't help finding some amusement in the situation, and she laughed a little. "What, you mean that your great and wonderful Grand Master Kenway cannot keep something in his possession for more than a few hours? No wonder he did not come to tell me himself."

Shay was slightly agitated by the sarcasm in her tone but was grateful at least that she was not taking the news badly. He continued, ignoring her last comment: "Fortunately, we know who took it, and where it is. It is just a matter of taking it back."

"And you need my help? That is why you're here, no?"

He smiled. "Your help would be much appreciated."

She laughed some more. "Oh, that's just wonderful."

His smile faded, for he had hoped she would view the matter with more seriousness, and also as he could not help being somewhat offended by the way she ridiculed the Templar Order. She noticed this, and she offered him a less amused and more affectionate smile. "Shay, please understand, it is not you or your order that I am mocking- I just cannot believe that Haytham allowed this to happen. He is always acting so superior, so above everyone else; it is amusing that he of all people should make such a foolish mistake."

"I understand. But will you help us?"

"What choice do I have? I require that artefact as much as you do, do I not?"

"Excellent." He clasped his hands in front of him gleefully. "Then we should leave at once. We will meet Master Kenway near the building where the artefact is being kept, and with luck, we can retrieve it before morning."

"That sounds just fine."

Kira led Shay to the stables, and after they had both settled on a horse each, they set off, the sound of the horses' footsteps suppressed by the undergrowth on which they trod. After riding for a few minutes in silence, the Templar and Assassin began to converse and talk about what had occurred over the past years, and it was in this way that Kira learnt of what had truly happened to Shay on the day he 'died'.

…

"Are we close?" Kira whispered, though loud enough for Shay to hear. They had reached Boston, the streets bare of life and silent, the constant clip-clop of the horses' hooves on the cobbled road being the only sound to break the silence.

"Yes, but we had better find a place to tether the horses, and go the rest of the way on foot."

Kira nodded in agreement, and they soon had walked the horses to the edge of the road, dismounted, and fastened their reins to a fence. Kira was taking an unusually long time to ensure the reins of her horse were secured tightly- she was lost in thought, and still taking in all of the information Shay had conveyed to her on their journey. They had both been able to come to an understanding of what had happened to each other in the years after his alleged death, but from her quietness, Shay was unsure of what Kira thought about what he had told her.

"Kira?" He asked, his voice low so as to avoid anyone hearing them.

"Hmm…?" Satisfied her horse was safely tethered, she turned a little to face him.

"Before we go, I want to make sure everything is alright between us."

"Of course, why wouldn't it be?"

He sighed. "I killed them, Kira. Adéwalé, Kesegowaase, Chevalier… Hope, and Liam, I killed them all."

"I know." She stared down at the floor, refusing to meet his gaze.

"But I need to know if that changes anything, what you think of me, now that you know the truth."

Kira took a moment before replying, but when she looked up at him, it was with a mixture of emotions, none of which he could identify with certainty. "I… Look, it is upsetting to hear that it was you who killed the other Assassins. They were our friends, mentors, but if what you say is true, then I do not see what other choice you had. Certainly, if they discovered another precursor site, then a great many people would have died… I think that what you did, you did for the greater good. It was right, I think, even though it cost the lives of our friends."

He breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed slightly. "So this does not change anything between us?"

"No. I still trust you, and no matter what has happened in the past, you are still my friend. I cannot resent you for doing the right thing, unfortunate though it was."

"Good. I am glad to hear you say that." He smiled, feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "Shall we go?"

"Yes, but I just want to ask one other question."

"What is it?"

"If I had not left for Europe, all those years ago, if I had stayed… Would you have killed me, too?"

It was Shay's turn to stop and think, and in the moments he took to work out how he would respond, Kira waited anxiously for the answer, her heart beating a little harder in her chest. His face was grave when he looked at her, but suddenly the beginnings of a smile appeared across his features. "No," he said, "I wouldn't have had to, you'd have come with me."

She laughed a little, relieved beyond belief at his answer. "Yes," she nodded, "I probably would have done."

It was as she said these words that she stopped suddenly, the smile disappearing in an instant. Noticing this, Shay took a step towards her, enquiringly. "Kira…?"

"I just realised," she stared into his eyes, with an expression as if something had just become dreadfully clear. "You're right. I would have wanted to go with you. I would never have trusted the Assassins if I had known it was they who killed you… That- that explains why Achilles never told me the truth, he must have feared I would follow you."

Shay said nothing, but returned her gaze curiously, as if he saying something would somehow disturb her thoughts. She looked back at him, before shaking her head. " Come on," she said, "let us focus on the task at hand."

He smiled, nodded, and proceeded to lead her to where he and Haytham had intended to meet, whilst hoping to himself that the rest of the night would go as planned.

…

Soon Shay and Kira neared where Haytham was waiting for them to arrive. Kira could see him, a little way off, crouched behind a few barrels and crates, staring towards a building which she presumed to be where the artefact was being held. Haytham was not yet aware of their presence, and they were yet to come within earshot of him.

"If you don't mind me asking, what is the nature of your relationship with Master Kenway?" Shay asked her, his pace slowing a little so that they had a few moments to talk before being noticed by his Grand Master.

Kira looked up at him, a little amused. "I despise the man. He's gone out of his way to make my life miserable in recent months."

"Why?"

"I haven't the faintest idea, though I feel my hatred towards him is equally reciprocated."

"Hate is a strong word." He beamed at her. "Anyway, he'll grow on you."

She rolled her eyes. "I do not want him to grow on me, I want him to leave me alone."

At this point, their presence was noted by Haytham himself, and he turned on hearing their voices. "Ah, Miss. Lawrence, it was good of you to join us." He stated, raising himself from the crouched position he had previously taken up to observe the building ahead of them.

"You left me no choice, what with you so carelessly losing the artefact to begin with." She responded.

He gave her a warning glance, before facing Shay. "Shay, you know what you have to do?"

"Of course, I'll get started at once." With a farewell nod to them both, Shay turned with the intention of leaving.

"Good luck, Shay," Haytham added, and Kira nudged his arm with hers, getting his attention. He frowned at her, unsure of what the meaning of this was.

"He makes his own luck, remember?" She sighed, under her breath, and quiet enough that only Haytham could hear it.

Indeed, Shay had turned back to his Grand Master, a cocky grin spread across his face. "You forget, Master Kenway, I make my own luck."

With that he was gone, leaving Haytham looking amused and Kira laughing to herself quietly. She shook her head, before turning towards the building which Haytham had been studying, making her own observations about it. She crouched behind the crates, grateful for the dark shadows cast by them as they concealed her presence from anyone residing within the building itself. From the constant movement of silhouettes past the various windows, she could presume there were a great many people inside. She heard a rustling sound from beside her, and soon Haytham had crouched next to her, he too watching the activity inside the house.

"So," she whispered, "You have a plan?"

He cast a sideways glance at her, before turning back to the building. "The artefact is on the ground floor, where the majority of guards will be. There are, however, a number of them on the first floor. It is through that window," he pointed at a window on the first floor, facing another building, "that we shall enter, and we will provide a distraction, enabling Shay to enter through the back door, and take the artefact whilst their attention is diverted to us."

"What sort of distraction?"

He looked at her again, his eyes steeled with concentration. "We kill them."

"And that is the only way?"

"Yes. These people are thieves, murderers- their deaths will only benefit the society in which we live."

"I see. Well, everything seems simple enough."

"Sometimes it is the simplest plans that are the most effective."

She nodded, raising herself slightly and at the same time reaching for the hood of her robes and pulling it over her head. She looked at Haytham and gestured forwards with her hand. "I understand. Lead the way."

Haytham first approached the building that stood beside their target, with Kira close at his heels. He was not quite running, but he led a fast and swift pace, ensuring they were moving as quickly and at the same time as quietly as possible. Kira followed on, her footsteps, like his, falling almost silently on the cobbles- the chill of the night air far from her mind as she focused on what she was doing. Haytham began his ascent up the building, his hands meeting each ledge and hold with confidence. Each movement already had been meticulously planned and calculated in his head, ensuring each one's success. Kira followed, somewhat impressed by how efficiently he managed the climb, and at the same time, impressed with herself, by the fact that she was keeping up with him so easily. By the time they had reached the rooftop, her fingers were numb with cold, and she brought them up to her face, blowing hot air over them and rubbing her hands together in an attempt to warm them up. The stone with which buildings were made seemed always to be cold at night, no matter the time of year, and climbing them always left her fingers without feeling.

The Templar noticed her stop, and he took the opportunity to assess the window they would enter through at this closer distance. It had been left open a crack in order to ventilate the building, rather conveniently, he thought, and it would present no problems to their entry.

"Are you ready?" He asked, glancing at her.

"Always."

He took a few steps back, before running forward and making the jump across the gap between the two houses, his hands catching onto the window ledge, leaving him hanging below the window. He kept his head low so as to avoid being seen by those inside, and he moved to the very end of the ledge, leaving space for Kira to join him. She peered over the gap between the two buildings, apprehensively. It was wider than she'd have liked, and even though she rarely doubted her skills, she couldn't help feeling slightly nervous as she made the jump. Thankfully, her fingers latched onto the ledge beside Haytham's, and she hung there for a moment, waiting for him to make the next move. She glanced at him, expectantly, her arms aching slightly from having to hold herself up. "No, please, take your time." She hissed, sarcastically, as she watched him slowly reach up to the window and pry it open.

He sighed, irritated by her tone, as he pulled himself up to and then over the window sill. Kira watched him disappear, and as soon as she heard his feet fall onto the other side, she too pulled herself up and soon found herself standing behind him. It was a relatively large room, which possessed only the bare minimum of furniture and decorations There were several men- four, she counted, though she had no doubt that there would be a great many more downstairs.

They had all caught sight of the two intruders, and immediately a cry of alarm went up, calling for assistance from those downstairs. Haytham lurched forwards, unsheathing his sword, and catching the first man off guard with the suddenness of his attack. Mercilessly, Haytham plunged his sword into the man's chest, twisted it aggressively before withdrawing it, sending blood splashing to the floor, staining the wood a dark crimson. Kira winced, but another man had made for her, and she ducked as a dagger came slashing towards her head, and at the same time her left hand shot upwards to catch her attacker's arm. She twisted it away from him, causing him to drop the dagger in pain and stumble somewhat towards her, giving her the opportunity to move her free hand to his throat, her hidden blade sliding out of place and lodging itself in the man's neck- a fatal blow. She pushed him to the floor, flicking her blade to the side in order to rid it of excess blood.

Looking up Kira noted that one of the four men had ran downstairs to fetch the others, leaving the last to fend for himself against Haytham. Haytham clearly had the upper hand, but the other man fought skilfully, dodging each of Haytham's strikes, though it looked as though it were becoming increasingly difficult for him to do so. Kira reached for one of her two daggers she kept sheathed at her side, and, after targeting it at the guard, she threw it forwards with distinct accuracy, watching as it lodged itself into the side of the man's head.

Haytham looked up at her, his sword had been mid-swing when Kira's dagger had struck his opponent, and his face conveyed the impression of being both very impressed, and also very annoyed at having been interrupted. She shrugged her shoulders at him, before walking forwards and reaching down to her last victim, pulling the dagger from his head. The sound of raised voices came from the stairs, and so she backed away a little, withdrawing her other dagger from its sheath with her free hand and preparing herself for what was about to come.

She watched as Haytham moved to the side of the stairs, where the approaching men could not see him. He gave her a knowing glance which she returned, and as the first man made it to the top of the stairs, the Templar sprung up and pushed him fiercely towards her. The guard was put off balance, and he stumbled towards Kira, allowing her to push a dagger into his chest before he could even raise his weapon. He fell to her side as she began, like Haytham, to attack the onslaught of guards that came flooding from the stairs.

After a few minutes of fighting, a last guard approached Kira, his eyes carrying a surprising determination given that his fellow men had been so easily slaughtered. Haytham had finished off his last opponent, and he watched as the guard lunged at Kira, a knife held out towards her. She side-stepped him easily and moved behind him as he reeled forwards, planting her foot sharply into the back of his knee and forcing him to the ground. Before his knees could even reach the floor, her blade had moved to his throat, and she cut it swiftly- ensuring he would die a relatively quick and painless death. He collapsed onto the floor, dead, whilst blood sheeted down his chest.

She looked up at Haytham as she sheathed her dagger and recovered her breath. "Is that all of them, do you think?"

"I would say so. Come, let us see how Shay has fared."

He began to head down the stairs, and she followed him quickly. As they reached the bottom, she observed three men, all lying on their backs, dead. Presumably, these were the guards that had stayed behind to guard the artefact. Shay stood over one, obviously having just finished with him. He wore a satchel around his shoulder, and Kira sighed with relief at the sight of it, knowing it must surely contain the orb.

"You have the artefact?" Haytham asked, gesturing towards the satchel.

Shay nodded, giving it a light pat for emphasis. "Yes, here."

"Good. We had better depart before more arrive."

…

Tired from their endeavours, and yet energised by their success, the three made their way down the street. Kira did not know where they were headed- probably The Green Dragon- but for the moment she did not care. They had made a good distance from the house they had just attacked, and glancing around, she couldn't see a single soul, with the exception of her companions. She decided now was as good a time as any, and with this in mind, she let the two Templars walk a few steps ahead. She drew her flintlock pistol from her holster and levelled it with Shay's head.

"Stop, now." She commanded.

The two men turned, surprise spreading across both of their faces as they saw the gun in her hand.

"Not a single move from either of you." She continued, targeting Haytham particularly with this command, as he was without a gun to his head, and was, therefore, most likely to try and stop her. "The orb, Shay. Give it to me."

Shay didn't dare move, as he waited for Haytham's advice. The older man stepped forwards, almost menacingly. "Or what? You'll kill him?" There was a slight smirk to his voice.

"Yes." She spoke, unwaveringly, her arm steady.

"I do not believe you," Haytham said, though there was some apprehension to his voice.

She took advantage of this. "Believe me when I say that I thought Shay dead for eighteen years, and I managed. I could do so again. If that is how it must be, then so be it."

She was lying, of course. She could never hurt Shay, let alone kill him, but the two men did not know that. The conviction in her voice and the steely determination in her eyes told them she would be more than happy to end Shay's life should that be necessary. After almost a minute of silence, it was Haytham that spoke.

"Give it to her, Shay." Thankfully for him, Haytham valued one of his best men's life above a precursor artefact. Almost reluctantly, Shay reached for the satchel and held it out to Kira cautiously.

Kira took it into her spare hand, at once alarmed at how light it was to be carrying the crystal ball. She frowned, confused, taking a further step back from the men, and at the same time placing her pistol back in its holster. Something told her the two Templars would not try and stop her, and this was proved to be correct as she began a search of the satchel, whilst the others watched, silently. The artefact was nowhere to be seen. It was empty, aside from something she couldn't quite make out. She reached in and pulled out the object- it was an amulet, similar to that which Haytham wore around his neck.

"What is this?" She asked, noticing that both men stared at the ground, refusing to meet her gaze. She tried again, desperately. "What is this? Where is the artefact?"

It was Haytham who looked up at her first. "I assure you that the artefact is safe, it is with William. That," he nodded towards the amulet, "that is something else."

"Clearly." She spat, angrily. "Are you trying to tell me that everything we did tonight was for this? Only this?" She waved the object about in the air.

"I am afraid so."

"You lied to me!" Kira hissed in response, taking an aggressive step forward.

"Kira, please," It was Shay who now spoke, trying to assist his Grand Master in some way, "It was not only Master Kenway..."

"Shay, you were only following his orders!"

Haytham approached her slightly, his hands held up as if he were accepting responsibility for his actions, "It is true, they were my orders, but," he paused to offer her a confident smile, "we were in need of your help. You should view it as a compliment-"

Kira brought her fist hard across his face, taking him completely by surprise, and sending him backwards a little. "How dare you!" She growled, showing no remorse for what she had done.

Haytham rubbed his face with his hand where she had struck him, almost in disbelief. His eyes glared into hers, alight with anger. "Shay?" He addressed the younger man, who had been watching the whole scene in a state of amazement.

"Yes, sir?"

"I think you had better leave."

"But Master Kenway-"

"Go, now, before I lose my patience." He commanded, heatedly.

Shay cast an apologetic and worried look towards Kira, before nodding, obediently. "Yes, sir."

Once Shay had left, Haytham turned his attention to the woman in front of him. Kira returned his glare. At any other moment, she'd have been terrified to have been left with him, especially after hitting him, but her anger overwhelmed all other senses as she fearlessly faced him. It was he however who spoke first. "How dare you!" He spat, seething, "How dare you be so disrespectful as to…"

Now, that was a step too far for Kira. "Disrespectful? You bastard, I'll show you disrespectful!" She lunged at him, all fear or logic aside, knowing fully well that this action would probably kill her, and yet not caring in the slightest.

Haytham dodged her attack effortlessly, succeeding only in further provoking her rage, as she threw another punch at him, this time hitting her target. He growled, and like her, he launched himself forwards to attack. She was able to duck under, and then side-step his first two punches, but as she was busy avoiding the second, he kicked out at her knee, sending her buckling to the ground.

She cried out as she hit the cobbled street, and he took the opportunity to throw himself on her, pinning her to the ground and holding her hands beside her head forcefully. However, although he usually had the strength to restrain her, her anger at being deceived obviously gave her incentive to work harder against him, as she was able to twist a hand briefly out of his grasp, and with this hand struck him violently on the side of the face. As he was reeling from the punch she rolled out from underneath him, pushing him onto his back and pinning him as he had done her.

For a few moments, they wrestled for domination over each other in this way, until at one point, when Haytham had her held to the ground, she managed to plant a foot against his chest, and she kicked him backwards, giving her enough time to get back on her feet. They stood apart from each other for a short while, each regaining their breath, before Kira once more threw a punch at him. He moved to the side, her fist narrowly missing his head, and caught her arm with his hand, twisting it and sending her to her knees beside him. However, as she fell, she was able to strike the inside of his knee with her elbow, making him stumble forwards, giving her an opportunity once more to get up from the ground.

Their fight had led them to a more secluded alley leading off the street, and as Kira rose to her feet, Haytham was able to plant a hand firmly around her throat, and with this hold, he lifted her to the nearest wall and pinned her against it, his hands moving to restrain both of hers by the side of her head. She gasped as the cold of the wall struck her back so suddenly, but she still fought violently against him, twisting and writhing as much as she could in an attempt to break free. She kicked out at his leg, her foot catching his shin, causing him to shout out in pain. Still, he held strong, and his eyes glared into hers.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He demanded, his grip tightened around her wrists and her eyes watered with the pain.

"You lied to me!" She gasped, still fighting against him.

"No. You wouldn't fight like this over a lie. Tell me what it truly is that has you so upset."

"I killed people!" She exclaimed, refusing to meet his gaze as she struggled against his grasp.

"So what?" He hissed, pushing her a little harder against the wall as if to knock some sense into her. "You're an Assassin, you are supposed to kill people!"

"I'm supposed to kill people for what's right!" She cried, desperately, practically hysterical. "Not so some bloody Templars can go around chasing foolish myths and legends!"

"Watch your tongue." He spat, once again hardening his grip as a warning.

"Or what?" She wouldn't look at him as she spoke. "You'll hit me? Kick me? Beat me? Kill me? That's all you Templars do, you just fight and kill anyone who doesn't follow your beliefs! Well, do you know what? I'm sick of it!" Now her eyes turned to his, and all at once she stopped fighting him. "I'm sick of you."

They both remained silent for a moment, both exhausted from their confrontation. Kira sighed, glancing at the ground below her. "Let me down." She said, simply, with no more fight left in her.

"Are you sure you won't-"

"Let me down." Her voice raised slightly, and so he loosened his grip on her wrists, reluctantly letting her out of his grasp.

Haytham took a step away from her, and she looked up at his face, taking some pleasure in the fact that a small trail of blood was trickling from both his nose, and his lip. She sighed again, wanting nothing more than just to go to her house and sleep, rest- to recover from everything that had happened. "Keep your amulet." She said, her voice low. "What's done is done, those people are dead and you having it will not change that. When you are finished with the orb, I want you to return it to Connor's people, peacefully… But most importantly, understand this: I never want to see you again. Do not be deceived into thinking you will be able to threaten me, or blackmail me; if you come anywhere near me, I will kill you."

With this warning having been issued, she placed the amulet into the satchel and handed it to him. She did not wait to see how he responded to her threat, she simply turned and walked away, hoping with all her heart that she should never have to lay eyes on him again.

* * *

Author notes:

Hi, everyone. Thanks for taking the time to read my story so far. Please review, follow, or favourite my story, as I appreciate all feedback, and I'd love to hear what you think. :)

So, as promised, I managed to get this chapter out much earlier than usual. I've decided that, like this chapter, I'm going to try to make all new chapters longer than what they used to be.

As for what's next: I've got about three weeks of free time, meaning I should post at least one other longer chapter within that time. After that, I'll be on holiday for a while, meaning I won't be posting any chapters, but as I said, I'm hoping to get the next chapter out sooner rather than later, so that'll hopefully make up for my absence.

I hope you're enjoying the story so far- I know I'm having fun writing it. :D

Kittycat312


	17. Chapter 17 A Mutual Understanding

Chapter 17. A Mutual Understanding

For the first time in his life, Haytham was completely and utterly speechless. His mind raced as he tried to comprehend what had just happened, as he pondered over what the implications might be of what had occurred. Kira's words kept repeating in his head as he tried to make sense of it all, and he struggled to get a grasp of what he was feeling.

There was anger. There was, most certainly, anger. He couldn't believe the nerve of the woman, the fact that she had dared to strike him when he was attempting to resolve the matter peacefully. Well, he had been dealing with the matter peacefully, up until the point he decided to fight back. But then, what choice did he have? There was no doubt that it had been she who had provoked a dispute to begin with, and therefore, he could not be held responsible for acting in the way that he did. At least, this is the reasoning he tried to reassure himself with.

But what else did he feel? Once he had pushed aside an initial anger, he could not help, nor deny, feeling terribly impressed by her. There was the fact that she had possessed the courage to confront him in the first place; that was something very few people had ever dared do, and the majority of them did not live to tell the tale. However, Kira had survived the ordeal. She had confronted him, and lived, despite this, and Haytham had to keep asking himself why. Why had he let her go? He could have killed her, should he have wanted to, and yet he hadn't.

Not only this, but Haytham was impressed by the fact that she had fared so well in their dispute. Neither party left the fight unscathed, true, but he had certainly fought her with all of his strength and yet it had not been enough to overcome her easily. His hand moved to his face, where he felt the blood running from his split lip; a reminder of how she had come close to defeating him. There were not many people who could claim such success, and he frowned as he moved his hand away from his face, the crimson of his own blood glistening mockingly on his fingers.

However, there was a final emotion playing on the Templar's mind, and it was this that he struggled to comprehend: guilt. For some reason he could not explain, he felt tremendously guilty. He could almost feel the weight of it on his shoulders, the feeling that he had done something wrong and that it needed to be righted. But for heaven's sake, what had he to be guilty about? Kira had killed Fletcher, despite his warnings, and thus, had deserved everything he'd put her through.

No. She hadn't.

True enough, she needed to be punished for disobeying his orders those few days ago, but hadn't she faced that punishment when he forced her to rob Connor's people? Was that not supposed to be an adequate penalty for her actions? So what had she done to deserve being lied to and tricked a few hours ago? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The realisation dawned on Haytham as to why he felt as if he had wronged her, and it was because he had- he had upset her and angered her, and yet she had done nothing to deserve this.

He sighed, the stillness of the city surrounding him as he considered what to do. Pulling the amulet from the satchel, he held it up towards the fading light of the moon and admired it as it shone between his fingertips. It was a terrible shame that doing the right thing would require him to part with it.

…

It was not a long walk to Kira's house- it was the sort of distance she would usually consider for a leisurely stroll- and yet her feet dragged with every footstep. Her head ached, almost all of her ached, with exhaustion and pain as she trod enduringly along the cobbles of the street, and whilst she was usually agile and vigilant, now she found herself stumbling occasionally on the uneven ground. Looking up at her surroundings, at the various houses, shops and inns that made up the street, she calculated that she had at least half an hour until she reached home, which would have usually been shorter, were it not for the state she was in.

The sky had darkened, the countless stars littered so vastly above disappeared as clouds formed overhead. Kira cursed to herself as she felt the first few drops of rain land on her head, each drop mocking her with its presence, and despite her tired state, Kira hastened forwards as the drops became heavier and more frequent. This was going to be no light shower. She thanked God for the fact that she was an Assassin as she drew her hood over her head, protecting her somewhat from the rapidly worsening downpour. However, before she knew it the rain had soaked through her robes, chilling her skin and making her clothes drag as she walked onwards. Frustrated, uncomfortable, and now seething with anger at how unfortunate her position was, Kira found the strength to make it home much faster.

…

The front door of Kira's house shone from the murky atmosphere the weather had created, and it took all of her control to not shout out in joy at the sight of it. Her little home had never seemed so inviting before, and she hurried up to the door, at the same time reaching for the key she kept in her pocket. The sound of the rain striking the cobbles of the path was almost deafening, for it fell fast and heavy, still drenching her clothes. As she was in the process of unlocking the door, she noted that bruises had formed on her wrists, from where Haytham had restrained her so forcefully. Despite being faint, they were most certainly noticeable, and Kira cursed as she wondered how she would explain such marks to Connor and Achilles.

She pushed this thought aside. Yes, she would need to come up with some clever explanation, but she would do so in the morning. For now, she needed to rest. Opening the door, Kira revelled in the fact she had escaped the rain, and when she closed it behind her she smiled as the sound of the rainfall grew quieter. She made her way into her bedroom, already peeling the drenched clothes from her skin, wincing in discomfort as they tried to cling to her. It was dark, but she was able to find the set of drawers in which she kept her clothes, and after fumbling for a moment for her nightgown, she found it and slipped into it, the soft and silky fabric feeling better than she remembered. She almost threw herself into her bed, and as she rested her head on her pillow, she had no doubt she would soon be enjoying a deep and much-needed sleep.

An hour later, after tossing and turning a countless number of times, Kira decided that sleep would not come. There was simply too much on her mind.

There was Achilles. Achilles, her mentor and friend for so many years, whom she had so disrespectfully treated. Of course, she had possessed a good reason for being angry at him, and yet, after speaking with Shay, she realised that he had done everything for the good of the Brotherhood. Was that not what mattered most? She understood now. She respected the reasons for his decision of lying to her for all of those years, and yet how could she tell him that? Perhaps she should tell the truth. Tell him, at least, that she had spoken with Shay, and that she was sorry for doubting him. Surely he would forgive her for being upset after she had been so shocked by Shay's survival. Yes. That was what she would do. Tomorrow morning, as soon as possible, she would return to the manor and apologise for what she had said.

A little relieved at having come to a conclusion, Kira got up, and she reached for her dressing gown, pulling it roughly over her shoulders. She decided that if she could not sleep, then she could perhaps find a good book to escape her troubled thoughts with, and with this in mind, she made for her sitting room. After lighting a small gas lamp, which provided her with just enough light to read by, she settled down in her armchair, pulling her knees up to her chest and curling up with a book in her lap.

She read for a little while, but, to her annoyance, her mind kept drifting to other things. What about Haytham? True, when she had confronted him before she had done so without fear, and yet now, looking back, she wondered if she should worry about what had occurred. Should she be afraid? There was no doubt in her mind that Haytham had been positively seething when she had left. But then, didn't he have a right to be angry? She had attacked him. At the time, she thought she'd had reason to, but then, Achilles had been lying to her for years, and she didn't physically attack him.

She pressed her head into her hand. She'd been such a fool. She'd let her emotions get the better of her, and had probably only made things worse in doing so. She sighed as she thought about what consequences her actions might have. If only she'd acted differently.

A sudden knock at the door surprised her to the extent that she sat bolt upright, her book falling from her lap onto the floor. She winced as she heard it fall, and bent to pick it up, listening out for another sound. It was probably just the wind, or her mind playing tricks on her. Looking up at her clock, she frowned as she saw how late it was. Half-past three? She should be in bed- she was going to be exhausted in the morning.

And then it came again, this time, an unmistakable knock at her door. She narrowed her eyes towards the sound, suspiciously. Then she remembered. It must be Connor, surely. She hadn't returned to the manor after talking to Shay, and therefore he had come to see if she was alright. It was awfully kind of him, however, at half-past three in the morning, it would have been kinder for him to have waited a few more hours. Begrudgingly, she rose from her seat and made her way to the door. Unlocking it, she thought about what she would say to him about what Shay had told her. How much should she tell him? She wasn't sure.

She looked up at him before her eyes widened in surprise. "Mr Kenway!" She gasped.

"Miss Lawrence." He greeted her, the calmness of his voice completely contrasting the surprise in hers.

She stood, in shocked silence, as he regarded her with a nonchalant stare. She realised how foolish she must look to him, standing agape in the doorway in her nightclothes… Glancing down at herself, she realised how inadequately dressed she was, and she hurriedly tightened her loose dressing gown around herself in an attempt to recover some modesty. She then met his gaze, confused. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to give you this." He said, his voice and expression emotionless, as he held out the satchel.

She didn't take it, not at first, for even in her sleep-deprived state, she knew that this could easily be some sort of trick. She didn't understand- why would he give it to her? Whilst she hesitated, she realised that some of the rain was making it through the doorway, and she took a slight step back away from this, whilst folding her arms across her chest so as to keep herself warm. Haytham clearly misread this action, though, for he stepped forwards a little, still offering the satchel.

He spoke simply, "I am not trying to trick you. It is yours, you can have it."

Reluctantly, her eyes not leaving his, she reached out and took it. She weighed it up in her hand for a moment, but it felt no different than before. Was it true? Was he really giving it to her? She frowned at him, unsure of what to think. "But why?"

"The reason is not important. Now, if you don't mind, I shall take my leave."

She nodded, slightly, and watched as he turned to leave. He had progressed only a few steps away before she regained her senses and came to terms with the situation.

"Wait!" She suddenly called out, much to both his and her own surprise. He stopped, then turned to face her with an inquisitive gaze. Hesitantly, she took a few steps outside to meet him, despite the feeling of the rain beginning to dampen her clothes. "Won't you come in?"

It was his turn to look confused. "Why…?"

"Because I don't understand you- not in the slightest. But I'd like to."

His brow creased into a frown, but after casting a glance at the overcast sky above, and noting that the rain was showing no signs of stopping, he shrugged indifferently. "In that case, I would be glad to accept your invitation."

Already anxious to get out of the rain, Kira led him inside, and despite the fact that she had asked him in, she couldn't escape a feeling of unease as she heard him shut the door behind them. She wasn't actually sure of what she was doing- but she was curious of Haytham's incentives- and she decided to let this curiosity get the better of her. It was something she would probably regret later on, but for now, she dismissed that thought. After lighting a few lamps, she found herself standing awkwardly before him in the sitting room, unsure of how to act.

"Can I… get you something to drink? Tea, perhaps?" She asked it more out of habit than kindness.

"Have you anything stronger?" He responded, as he took off his hat and placed it to the side.

"Yes, of course." She turned to make her way to the kitchen. "I may join you in that."

As she poured a drink of whiskey for both herself and her guest, she made sure to keep her ears alert to the movements he was making from the next room. Having assured herself he wasn't up to anything, and after having placed the bottle of whiskey back into a cupboard, she picked up the drinks, noting how her hands were shaking ever so slightly. What was she doing? She was frightened, and rightly so- after all, she had just invited a powerful enemy into her abode, and for what? A friendly chat? She prayed that Achilles would never find out about this.

Taking a deep breath, she returned to the living room, drinks in hand. As she entered, she observed Haytham crouched over by the fireplace, in the process of lighting it. It only then occurred to her how cold it was in the house. She had been so lost in her thoughts before that the chill in the air had gone unnoticed, but now she shivered, grateful for the fact that Haytham had taken the initiative to light a fire. He looked up at her approach and took the drink gratefully when she offered it to him.

Whilst he continued with his task, Kira returned to her armchair, sipping at the whiskey quietly as she watched the beginnings of flames appearing from within the fireplace. The alcohol and the prospect of fire warmed her, but she frowned as she saw Haytham pause and regard the drink she had given him with a suspicious stare. He raised it slightly, inspecting it distrustfully. She rolled her eyes.

"I haven't poisoned it, if that is what you are thinking."

He shrugged. "You did say you would kill me, should I come near you again. You cannot blame me for being careful."

She smiled. "No, I suppose not."

Still, satisfied with what Kira had said, Haytham took a few sips of the whiskey before returning his attention to the fire. As before, Kira watched him for a minute or two as she worked out what she could say. She shifted uncomfortably on the chair.

"Mr Kenway, I was hoping I might be able to apologise for what happened earlier."

He said nothing, his gaze still fixated on the budding fire, and she took this as a sign to continue.

"Look, what you did? It was wrong, and you shouldn't have lied to me… But even so, I shouldn't have acted in the way that I did. We did not need to fight. We should have been able to resolve our issues more diplomatically."

"The fault does not lie solely with you. I am afraid we were both equally to blame, even if it was you who… overreacted."

She opened her mouth to protest, but stopped herself, knowing he was right. He looked up at her, somewhat surprised by her lack of response, but entertained by it all the same. She met his gaze and found herself frustrated by how he smiled at her amusedly.

"Do not misinterpret what I have said. True enough, I am apologising for what occurred, but that does not mean I forgive you. At the end of the day, you are my enemy, and I still despise you… I am simply stating that even as enemies, we should solve our problems more peacefully."

Haytham straightened, the fire now blazing, and took a few more sips of his drink before replying. "It is a shame that more Assassins do not possess your desire for a non-violent solution to our problems. Much bloodshed could have been prevented."

Kira was inclined to point out that the Templars were just as keen to encourage violence as the Assassins, but she held her tongue. "Unfortunately it is the way of the world: that peace cannot be achieved without blood being spilt. I only hope I live to see the day when this is changed."

"As do I."

"Then at least we can agree on something."

"I am certain we would agree on many things should we ever have the time to discuss them. I think that you and I are more alike than either dares to admit."

She laughed a little at that, in a way that told him she didn't believe him. He wasn't offended- he just smiled back at her, agreeably, and told himself that one day he must remember to prove her wrong.

They fell silent for a small while, both unsure of what to say, both lost in their own thoughts. It was Haytham who spoke first.

"May I ask you something?"

"That depends on what it is."

He tilted his head slightly to the side, inquisitively, as he regarded her. "Do you truly despise me as much as you claim to?"

She nodded her head a little. "Yes. Why do you ask?"

He frowned at the frankness of her answer, and then reminded himself that at least she was being honest. "No reason- I was merely… curious."

"Oh, come now," she started, sensing she had offended him, "what did you expect me to say? That secretly, I'm very fond of you?" She laughed. "What reason have I to be?"

He narrowed his eyes at her; that had been a little too honest for his liking. It was an insult, and he didn't appreciate it. Still, to his own surprise, he didn't reprimand her. He stayed silent, afraid that if he spoke, his temper would get the better of him, and another dispute would be sparked.

Kira leant forwards, somewhat shocked by his silence- as she had expected some fiery retort from him. "Mr Kenway, I do not mean to offend you, but I have no illusions of your regard for me. I am sure you think very lowly of me, but-"

"On the contrary, I think very highly of you."

She leant back into her chair a little, a frown forming on her face. She hadn't expected that, and she could muster only a simple answer in her confused state. "You do?"

"Naturally. You possess a great many skills and qualities: you are perceptive, intuitive, agile, quick-thinking, intelligent... Why shouldn't I think highly of you?"

Kira had fallen silent, and she couldn't help blushing at the sudden and unexpected praise. True enough, Haytham was a Templar, but that didn't mean she shouldn't be pleased to have impressed him in such a way, especially given his position in The Order.

Haytham saw her cheeks redden and smiled, pleased that his praise meant something to her. He took the opportunity to draw a chair from across the room, and he seated himself by the fire, grateful for the warmth it was providing- despite the fact that most of his attire had been soaked through. Kira watched him, still deathly silent, as she considered what to say to such a compliment. She took a sip of her whiskey, the alcohol a trickling river of fire in her throat. She spoke softly, staring deeply into her drink in order to avoid his gaze. "That's very kind of you to say."

"It is certainly kinder than what you have said to me, yes."

Her complexion turned an even darker and more obvious shade of crimson. "I didn't mean to-"

"I understand. Still, I find it difficult to believe that you despise entirely everything about me. Come," he smiled, leaning forwards in his chair confidently, "use your imagination. There must be something you like."

Kira said nothing, and for a while, Haytham presumed it would stay that way. He shrugged, about to speak when she instead spoke. Her warm, brown eyes rose to meet his cooler ones. "Your voice."

"My… voice?" His brow furrowed in confusion as he wondered what on earth she meant. He tilted his head, intrigued.

"Yes. When you speak, I almost feel as if I'm in London again."

"You miss it?"

"It has been so long since I have returned there- but yes, I miss it. I should like to go back again sometime soon, when things are less troubled here."

"That may be a while."

"I know."

Kira's gaze went to the floor, dejectedly. After a few moments, she shook her head, not wanting her thoughts to be plagued with rose-tinted memories of London, and questions as to whether or not she would ever see it again. She regarded Haytham, composedly. "May I ask you something?"

"Yes?"

"You seem to be impressed by my abilities, so what do you think of my being an Assassin?"

He paused, before stating: "I think you're a fool."

"Why?" True enough, she wouldn't usually let such a blunt insult go unpunished, but for now, she was willing to do so; her curiosity once again prevailing.

Haytham leant back into his chair a little, making himself comfortable. "Because it is a waste of your potential. With things as they are with the Assassins, you will never receive the training and the experience necessary for bettering yourself any further. It is a shame- a dreadful shame- that your mentor is so neglectful of you."

"Achilles is not neglectful!" Kira exclaimed, more loudly than anticipated. She was willing to let any critique towards her be overlooked, but to her mentor? Not a chance.

The Templar opposite her sat, unmoved by her sudden outburst, and quite unaffected by the fiery response he had received. His cool gaze kept her heated one, whilst he replied, simply, "When was the last time that Achilles trained you?"

Kira froze, all signs of outrage vanished from her expression in an instant, as she already began to understand the point Haytham was making. "I- I don't remember…"

"Why has he not trained you?"

"I am not certain."

"Then I shall enlighten you. He no longer trains you because he's found a new pupil, and by my guess, a pupil that can be shaped into his own image. I'd gamble that my son is far more agreeable than you when it comes to following orders, and if that is so, then naturally your mentor has turned his efforts to the student with more prospect. To put it simply: If there is another who is more likely to accomplish what Achilles wants, then why should he waste his time training you?"

Kira winced, his words were like the cut of a knife, and the truth in them only rubbed salt in the wound. She had turned a ghostly shade of pale, the reality of what he was saying weighing on her. Haytham watched as she stared at the floor, evidently hurt by what he had said. He felt sorry for her, naturally, but knew full-well that he hadn't told her anything she didn't already know.

"I am sorry," he said, "but you know it is true."

She nodded, ever so slightly, in agreement, but then shook her head. "You needn't be sorry. It has nothing to do with you."

"No- but it is an unfortunate position you have found yourself in, and for that, you have my sympathies." With these words, he finished the last of his drink, before standing abruptly. "I think it best that I take my leave- the others will be expecting me."

She rose out of courtesy, straightening the skirts of her nightdress and gown as she did so. "Yes… of course."

Her mind still was alive with thoughts as she reflected on what had been said; particularly about Achilles. She passed Haytham and proceeded to lead him to the front door, which she held open politely. The rain still hammered on the ground outside, the sound of it falling still overpowering all other sounds.

"Thank you," Haytham muttered as he walked past her, straightening his hat as he did so. He looked up at the grey and gloomy sky and silently cursed it, before turning his attention back to the Assassin- a far more pleasant sight, though he would deny ever thinking so if someone were to ask. He tipped his hat. "Goodnight, Miss Lawrence."

"Goodnight Mr Kenway."

Kira closed the door as soon as he turned his back to her, endeavouring to keep the cold night air from stealing away the heat of the fire. She returned to her living room, and after putting away the two glasses, snuggled back into the warmth of her armchair. True enough, her talk with Haytham had given her many more things to consider, but at the same time, it had left her with a feeling of contentment; a feeling of reassurance, that helped to put her busy mind at ease. She soon slept comfortably, with the knowledge that for now, she would be alright.

* * *

Author notes:

Hi, everyone. Thanks for taking the time to read my story so far. Please review, follow, or favourite my story, as I appreciate all feedback, and I'd love to hear what you think. :)

Wow. Ok. It's been a while, and I feel particularly bad as I had promised to get this chapter out months ago. Unfortunately for this story, the holidays happened, (and didn't they go quickly?), and in the last few weeks I've been settling into college. So yeah, I've been super busy. But hey, I hope it's been worth the wait.

As for the next chapter? I want to say I'll get it out soon, but if you've been following this story for that long, you know that when I say that, it usually doesn't happen. Who knows, though? We'll see.

Thanks again for your patience! :D

Kittycat312


	18. Chapter 18 New Beginnings

Chapter 18- New Beginnings

"Achilles, I am sorry." Kira met her own gaze as she stared coolly into the mirror. She monitored her expression as she spoke the words, weary of even the slightest change, the slightest movement. That's all it would take to betray her.

She was an excellent liar, and had often found herself being able to talk her way out of a number of difficult situations. It was a vital skill, and one that she prided herself in mastering long ago. She could fool most people- men, particularly- but then again, Achilles was not just any person. He was a master Assassin, trained to see through deceit and to read others' expressions as easily as he could a book. Not only this, but he also held the advantage of knowing Kira extremelywell. He knew everything there was to know about her. The way she acted. The way she spoke. The way she lied. After all, he had trained her to do so.

Still, she reminded herself, he didn't know _everything_ about her. He knew nothing of her most recent endeavours, and with the best of luck, it would remain that way. If she could conceal the fact that she had been having several too many run-ins with the Templar Grand Master, then surely she could conceal the fact that she didn't entirely forgive her mentor for what he had done.

"Achilles, I am sorry for how I acted yesterday. It was disrespectful, and I was angry, and-" The words failed her. It wasn't convincing enough. She didn't believe it enough. She could see it in her eyes and hear it in her voice. If she could, Achilles would too. Sighing, she turned away from the mirror and stepped towards her dresser. The dark-wood floor was rough and cold beneath her bare feet, and she hurried her pace a little, almost hopping across the space in order to cross it in as little steps as possible. Within no time, she reached it, and as she dressed into her robes, her mind continued to wonder what to say. As she finished, a loud knock came from the front door.

She made her way downstairs, at the same time brushing the front of her robes with her hands, ridding it somewhat of the loose dirt and gravel it had accumulated whilst she had wrestled with Haytham the night before. "Coming!" She called as she approached the door. This time it was Connor. No one else would have any reason for being there. She opened the door, and once again was proved wrong. Nevertheless, she relaxed a little at the sight of her visitor.

"Shay!" She greeted, warmly, standing aside so that he could come in.

"Ah, lass, thank heavens you're alright! I was worried after yesterday that…" he stopped his explanation and gave her a playful grin as he stepped inside. "Well, you can imagine."

"Yes, of course." She returned the smile as she closed the door behind him. "But I am quite alright, I assure you."

"Glad to hear it." His voice tailed off a little as he caught sight of the bruises wrapped obtrusively around her wrists. He gestured loosely in their direction, giving her a quizzical look as he did so. "What about those?"

Instinctively she brought her hands together, her fingers grazing over the purple marks. "Nothing. Really, Shay, I'm fine."

"You need to be careful, Kira."

"I am being careful."

He shot her a dark look, as if she were not taking the conversation seriously enough. "No, you're not. Haytham is a dangerous man, lass, and if you're sensible you'll stay out of his way."

"Stay out of his way? I only wish I could! No matter how hard I try to avoid him, the man seems determined to cause me trouble. I cannot turn a corner without running into Haytham Kenway!"

"If that is so then you must do what he wants of you."

"No! You cannot be serious! He may be your master, but he is not mine. Why should I-"

"He will kill you, Kira!" The words were almost shouted, and the urgency in them forced her into silence. For a moment they stood that way, him frustrated, and her taken aback. Soon, however, his expression faded from anger to grief, and pleadingly he looked into her eyes before continuing. "Please, Kira. Haytham's a good man- I'll swear by it- but I have seen how he treats his enemies, and believe me, it's not a fate I want for you."

She took a step towards him, placing a hand upon his shoulder. "I'll be as careful as I can. Thank you."

Another knock resounded on the door. Kira cursed to herself as she motioned Shay to one side, once more reaching for the door handle. This really was becoming tiresome now. Opening it slightly, she peered around the door to greet whoever it was visiting her this time.

"Connor!" She exclaimed, finding it a little ironic that it was now of all times that he had arrived. Still, it could have been worse. It could have been Achilles.

A frown had already begun to form on his face as he sensed her discomfort. "Is everything alright?"

She shuffled awkwardly for a moment, undecided on what to do. "Well, yes, it's just…" Casting a glance back at the man standing behind her, and then to Connor, she rolled her eyes, realising there was no point in lying to Connor any further. Reluctantly, she opened the door fully, stepping aside so that the young man would see her current guest.

"Connor." Shay greeted amusedly, leaning nonchalantly against the hallway wall with his arms crossed in front of him.

It took less than a second for Connor's eyes to light up with hatred. "You!" He yelled, the discreet click of an engaging hidden blade accompanying his voice as he lurched forward.

"No!" Kira exclaimed, exasperatedly. She stepped in front of Connor, her hands reaching out to catch his wrists and bring his attack to a sudden halt. He struggled against her grasp for a small while, huffing with irritation as he did so. Meanwhile, Shay remained unmoved from his position, a small smile spreading across his lips as he watched the youngest Assassin become even more frustrated.

Once she had given Connor a moment to cool his temper, Kira released her hold on him, giving a warning glance as she did so. "Shay was just leaving." She said, calmly.

"Why is he here?" He snapped back, glaring threateningly towards the Templar.

"He was merely coming to see if I was alright. He meant no harm."

"Why would you not be alright? Did something happen?"

Kira cursed inwardly at how speedily Connor had noticed her mistake. He had certainly inherited his father's quick thinking. "Well, no, but…"

"Some of the things I revealed last night disturbed her, and she ran off before I could finish talking. I wanted to be sure she had reached home safely." Shay interjected, coming to her rescue. He moved from the wall to stand beside her.

Kira breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that for once Shay seemed to be intent on assisting her.

"Anyway…" the Templar continued, "it is not like I need any excuse for paying a visit to my favourite Assassin." With these words, he wrapped an arm around her waist, and before she could even realise what was happening- let alone protest- he pulled her into a kiss. Her eyes widened momentarily with surprise as his hands moved to her back, pulling her close to him- so close that she could feel his heart beating in his chest. Her eyes fluttered closed as he deepened the kiss, a shiver of undeniable pleasure running through her body. She couldn't remember the last time a kiss had felt like this.

A kiss? All at once, she regained her senses. What was she doing? She planted a hand firmly on Shay's chest, pushing him away. She hurriedly turned to Connor, desperate to explain that this really wasn't what it looked like. "Connor, please, pay no attention to Shay." She spoke as if nothing had happened, trying to brush past the fact that she had just shared a kiss with a Templar. She shoved Shay playfully with her shoulder. "He's just trying to get me in trouble, that's all."

The Assassin said nothing, but continued to glare at her with a mixture of anger and confusion in his eyes.

"Trying?" Shay smirked, leaning in a little to talk to her, "Succeeding, by the looks of it."

She rolled her eyes and chose to ignore the comment. "Connor," she implored, "please don't look like that. You're only encouraging him."

"I wonder if he could look any angrier…" Shay continued whilst Connor remained silently seething. He weaved an arm around Kira's waist for a second time, though this time found the woman take a step away from him and his advances.

"Don't you dare." She remarked, turning her attention away from Connor for a moment, given that he was about as responsive as a brick wall. She looked up into Shay's eyes, which shone with playfulness and amusement. No doubt he was still concocting up ways in his mind of getting her into even more trouble than he already had, and that wouldn't do at all. "You had better leave," she murmured, giving him a small smile, despite everything. "Before he kills us both."

"I'd like to see him try."

"Go!" She shoved him firmly towards the door.

"Alright, alright!" He laughed, heading towards the door. He paused as he reached it, turning and giving a brief nod to each Assassin in farewell. "Kira. _Mr Kenway._ "

He left, and Kira cringed as she saw Connor stare after him, his hands curled tightly into fists and his knuckles tinged a deathly pale. He hated being addressed by his father's name. Sighing, Kira stepped beside him and placed a hand reassuringly on his shoulder, feeling him tense as she did so. She had to be careful. In times of anger, Connor was like a wild animal- unpredictable.

"Connor." She spoke quietly, trying to draw his attention from the parting Templar.

"What?" He snapped, turning to shoot her an icy glare, and pushing her hand sharply from his shoulder. She was taken aback by the suddenness of his actions, and he took the opportunity to scold her. "Kira, I warned you about him. You swore you would ask him your questions and then be done with him. Why was he here?"

"I told you, he was making sure I was alright, as any gentleman would do. I ran away! In the middle of the woods! Would _you_ not have come after me?"

"Well yes, of course, but-"

"Exactly! So you cannot blame Shay for doing so." She paused for a moment, reading his expression. He stared at the floor, sighing, and in doing so conceded defeat. She continued, "Good. Now if that is settled, then I'd like to go and get something to eat. I'm starving."

"No. We must return to the manor at once. Achilles is waiting, he sent me for you."

"Oh, come on…" She protested to no avail, feeling his hand grasp her arm. Before she knew it, she was being dragged to where he had left his horse waiting.

…

"Connor, please, I am not ready to see Achilles."

"It matters not. He has asked to see us both, and so he shall."

"I don't have a choice?"

"No."

Kira rolled her eyes, folding her arms across her chest as she watched her companion tether his horse. "What if I run?"

"Then I will bring you back." He smirked, giving the steed a gentle pat on the side of its neck.

"Forcibly?"

He turned to her, an amused glint in his eye. "Yes. If that is what it takes."

The journey had provided Kira with an adequate amount of time to tell Connor the truth of what happened to Shay, and it was safe to say that the young Assassin harboured no more sympathy for the Templar than he had done before the tale. If anything, hearing more of Shay's treachery and its circumstances had only led to a deeper dislike of the man. Kira had no wish to argue, and so spent the rest of the journey discussing other things with Connor- but not without the occasional plea for him to turn back. Nevertheless, they had arrived at the manor.

Once Connor had finished with his horse, the two headed towards the entrance. Though Connor was keen to move quickly, Kira took her time. She stared at the ground as she walked, deep in thought. Was it too late to run? Yes. Connor would never let her get away, not now, after he had dragged her all the way to the manor in the first place. Not only this, but running would be needlessly dramatic. She wasn't afraid of Achilles- far from it- but she was undoubtedly in for a scolding, and probably a lecture on 'respecting your elders' too. She sighed. She'd heard a few of those in her time.

They reached the front door, and Connor was quick to usher Kira inside, no doubt realising her apprehension. "Achilles?" He called out as he closed the door behind them.

"Down here!" Echoed Achilles' voice from the basement, and with a quizzical look to each other, the two Assassins followed it down.

Just before she came into view of her mentor, Kira paused on the stairs, whilst Connor continued down. She took a deep breath. _Just don't lose your temper,_ she repeated to herself firmly. No matter what, she wanted to walk out of this basement having fixed things, not made them worse. With another deep breath, she descended the last few steps.

What she didn't expect, however, was to find herself being greeted by not two, but by four pairs of eyes. Achilles was standing in the middle of the room, hunched over a little with his hand firmly clutching his walking stick. By his side stood two young boys, who each could be no more than sixteen.

"Kira." Achilles greeted unexpectedly warmly, as the woman made her way to stand beside Connor, who seemed to share her confusion.

"Achilles." She gave a small smile- not enough to seem overly confident, but enough to give off the impression that she meant well.

He gestured to one of the boys beside him. "This is Harvey," his hand moved to the other boy, "and this is Gabriel. Both are aspiring to become full-fledged Assassins, and with this intention, I would like you to take them under your wing. Not only will it be a rewarding experience for the boys, but I hope that you too will use this opportunity to better yourselves as mentors, and Assassins." He turned his attention back to the boys. "Gabriel, Kira will be your mentor. Harvey, Connor will be yours."

Kira smiled broadly. This was nothing like she had been expecting, but nevertheless, she was quick to be on board with the idea. She stepped forwards, offering her hand to her newly appointed apprentice. "It's very nice to meet you."

He was a little hesitant, but soon accepted her gesture and smiled politely. "And you, ma'am. Thank you."

In the meantime, Connor had greeted his apprentice, but before any serious conversation could take place, Achilles stepped in once more. "Now Connor, you and Harvey go upstairs and get to know each other. Gabriel, I would like you to wait there too. I must speak with Kira privately."

Kira's heart sunk to the bottom of her chest like a stone dropped in the ocean. Of course, it was too good to be true. She should have known she wouldn't have gotten away with her past behaviour so easily. She watched with a solemn expression as the three left the room as instructed, particularly Connor- who might have provided some backup had he been allowed to stay. Wincing a little, she turned to face Achilles.

"So, what do you think?" He asked, leaning forwards on his stick a little.

She took the opportunity to try to stick to this subject. "Oh, I think it is a marvellous idea. You have taught me so much- I am keen to finally have the chance to pass this knowledge on to my own apprentice."

He smiled, obviously pleased by her response. "Good, good." He paused, before continuing: "Now, I think it is time we addressed the matter of what occurred the other day. It has clearly been weighing on your mind."

She couldn't meet his gaze. "Truthfully? Yes, it has. I want to start by saying-"

"I do not want to hear it." He interrupted. She swallowed hard, expecting the worse. "You were disrespectful, yes, and I sincerely hope that you will not assume that attitude again. However, I am human, and I realise that the news of Shay's survival will have come as quite a shock to you."

Kira stood silently, her arms folding before her almost sadly as she reminisced over all that had occurred. It was true- the fact that Achilles had lied had felt like a knife to her back. He was her mentor, and she could never have imagined him keeping such a significant secret to himself for all those years. She felt tears prick at her eyes as she remembered the feeling of betrayal and bewilderment. Everything could have been so different, if only they had been honest with each other. "I just… I could not believe that you had lied to me. You of all people knew how close Shay and I were, and you let me think him dead for so, so long. And with no explanation why…"

"You loved him."

The words struck Kira like a wave in a tempestuous ocean, as if they had crashed against her chest, knocking the air from her lungs. She had known all along- of course- but for someone else to say it, and to say it so bluntly… She could respond with nothing. Instead, she silently fought back the sea of emotion that tried so unwaveringly to overwhelm her.

"And that is why you acted as you did." He continued simply, stopping only to step towards her and rest a hand comfortingly on her shoulder. "I forgive you."

She looked up at him, her eyes glazed over with both sorrow and relief. When she spoke, it was hardly a whisper. "Why?"

"Because I know how it feels to lose someone you love."

Without even thinking, Kira rushed forwards to embrace him, catching him entirely by surprise. Her eyes watered with relief, and her heart fluttered with a feeling of joy. _He understood_. Finally, after all this time, he understood. "Thank you." She murmured, feeling his hand pat her back caringly.

"I am truly sorry, Kira. I never meant to hurt you."

"Achilles, I am sorry." She replied.

And she meant it. Every word.

* * *

Author notes:

IMPORTANT. I am back. I am not dead, and I want to start by saying a huge sorry to all the people who have stuck with this story so far- if you are still here after all this time, then you are amazing and I cannot thank you enough. I really shouldn't have left it so long to write/update this.

So I am so, so sorry to anyone who has been waiting for this chapter.

Who knows if you're reading this, but I want to particularly thank anyone who left a review recently asking me to continue. Lolistarkiller (I hope you're still with me here), I loved your review, and it really made me step up and get this chapter finished in the last few days. So thank you. So much.

To everyone who has left a review, I am so grateful as it really motivated me to get writing again. I have not ditched this story, not at all, and I fully intend to keep it going. If you still want to read it, then I still want to write it.

Ah. Ok. Speech over. I'm excited about the next chapter though, so hopefully I'll get it out in a reasonable amount of time this time. :D

Kittycat312


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